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SERMONS 



BY THE IATK 



REV. JOSEPH S.BUCKMINSTER, 



NOW FIRST PUBLISHED 



FROM THE 



AUTHOR'S MANUSCRIPTS. 




BOSTON. 
PUBLISHED BY CARTER AND HENDEE ; 

CORNER OF WASHINGTON AND SCHOOL, STREETS. 



1829. 



^ 



DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT: 

District Clerk's Office. 
Be it remembered, that on the twentysecond day of May, A. D. 1829, in the fiftythird yea? 
of the Independence of the United States of America, Carter and Hendee, of the said district, 
have deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprie- 
tors, in the words following, to wit: 

'Sermons by the late Rev. J. S. Buckminster, now first published from the Author's Man- 
uscripts. ' 

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled ' An act for the en- 
couragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors 
and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned}' and also to an act, 
entitled 'An act supplementary to an act, entitled, "An act for the encouragement of 
learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors 
of such copies, during the times therein mentioned ; " and extending the benefits thereof to 
the aits of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints.' 

JNO. W DAVIS, 
Clerk of the District of Massachusetts* 



EXAMINER PRESS SCHOOL. STREET. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



The wish has been often expressed by the friends of Mr 
Buckminster, particularly by those to whom his sermons were 
first addressed, that a further selection from them might be 
printed. The volume already published contains many of his 
most valued sermons, and the friends by whom the choice was 
made, faithfully discharged their duty to the reputation of Mr 
Buckminster while subjecting it to the severe test of a posthu- 
mous publication. But those who were his hearers are aware, 
that many of his sermons remained unpublished, not less adapt- 
ed to the ends of religious instruction, than those contained in 
the first volume. 

In offering to the public a further selection, the friends of 
Mr Buckminster are therefore confident that they shall make 
a highly useful addition to the stock of works adapted to pro- 
mote the best influences of Christianity. 

Few collections of sermons have been so favorably received 
as the former volume, and a firm persuasion is entertained that 
the additional volume, which is now presented to the christian 
community, will prove in no degree less acceptable. 



CONTENTS 



SERMON I. 

ON THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 

Romans, xi. 36. For of him, and through him, and to him, are 
all things 1 

SERMON II. 

OUR LOT IN LIFE NOT AT OUR OWN DISPOSAL, BUT ORDERED 

BY GOD. 

Proverbs, xvi. 9. A man's heart deviseth his way ; but the Lord 
directeth his steps. 26 

SERMON III. 

ON THE EVIDENCES OF A RETRIBUTION FOR SIN. 

Romans, ii. 16. In the day when God shall judge the secrets of 
men by Jesus Christ, according to my Gospel. ... 43 

SERMON IV. 

THE DISCLOSURES OF THE FUTURE JUDGMENT. 

Romans, ii. 16. In the day when God shall judge the secrets of 
men by Jesus Christ, according to my Gospel. ... 56 

SERMON V. 

THE FUTURE STATE OF THE JUST. 

1 Corinthians, xiii. 10. When that which is perfect is come, that 
which is in part shall be done away 68 



vi CONTENTS. 

SERMON VI. 

SPIRITUAL NATURE OF THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST. 

John, xviii. 36. Jesus answered ; My kingdom is not of this world. 82 
SERMON VII. 

MISAPPREHENSIONS AS TO THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 

Romans, xiv. 17. The kingdom of God is not meat and drink ; 
but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. . 96 

SERMON VIII. 

RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. 

Matthew, xxii. 5. But they made light of it, and went their way. 114 
SERMON IX. 

GOD'S PROVIDENCE AS SHOWN IN THE HISTORY OF REVELATION. 

Acts, xv. 18. Known unto God are all his works, from the be- 
ginning of the world. . 129 

SERMON X. 

SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 

Hebrews, iii. 12. Take heed, brethren, lest there be in you an 
evil heart of unbelief. ....... 142 

SERMON XI. 

CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 

Matthew, vi. 24. No man can serve two masters. . . 160 

SERMON XII. 

THE INADEQUACY OF THE PREVAILING CONCEPTIONS AS TO 
THE EXTENT OF THE DIVINE LAW, COMPARED WITH THE 
MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 

Psalms, cxix. 96. Thy commandment is exceeding broad. . 176 
SERMON XIII. 

THE COMMON MISTAKES ON THE SUBJECT OF HAPPINESS, AND 
ITS TRUE SOURCES. 

Psalms, iv. 6. There be many that say, who will show us any good ? 202 



CONTENTS. vii 

SERMON XIV. 

THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 

Matthew, vi. 13. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from 
evil 218 

SERMON XV. 

SINCERITY. 

1 Corinthians, v. 8. But with the unleavened bread of sincerity 
and truth 233 

SERMON XVI. 

THE PECULIAR BLESSINGS OF OUR SOCIAL CONDITION AS AMER- 
ICAN CITIZENS. 

Mark, v. 19. Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great 
things the Lord hath done for thee. . . . . 247 

SERMON XVII. 

THE PRACTICABLENESS OF THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 

Hebrews, iii. 1. Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heav- 
enly calling, consider the apostle and high priest of our profes- 
sion, Jesus Christ 263 

SERMON XVIII. 

ON THE FRIENDSHIP OF OUR SAVIOUR FOR THE APOSTLE JOHN. 

John, xiii. 23. Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his 
disciples, whom Jesus loved. ...... 280 

SERMON XIX. 

ON SELF-EXAMINATION. 

A DISCOURSE PREACHED ON THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR. 

Luke, xvi. 2. Give an account of thy stewardship. ► . 295 

SERMON XX. 

SOURCES OF THE COMMON MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. 

Psalms, 1. 21. Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one 
as thyself. 308 



viii CONTENTS. 

SERMON XXI. 

A PURE HEART AND BLAMELESS LIFE MOST FAVORABLE TO THE 
UNDERSTANDING OF THE GOSPEL. 

John, vii. 17. If any man will do his will, he shall know of the 
doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself. 322 

SERMON XXII. 

THE DISAPPOINTMENTS AND UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE. 

Ecclesiastes, i. 14. I have seen all the works that are done 
under the sun ; and behold all is vanity and vexation of spirit. 342 



SERMON I. 



ON THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
Romans, XI. 36. 

FOR OF HIM, AND THROUGH HIM, AND TO HIM, ARE ALL THINGS. 

There is no habit of the mind which gives such 
uniform and equable satisfaction, as that which re- 
fers every event in the course of our own, or of 
others' experience, to God, the only proper agent. 
In a world so full as this of sudden and strange vi- 
cissitudes, it is of great importance to believe, 
steadfastly and cordially, that no event takes place 
which has not been foreseen ; that no agent, ani- 
mate or inanimate, operates uncontrolled ; and 
that all the wills of all voluntary beings in creation, 
are subordinate to the irresistible volitions of the 
Ruler of creation. It is common enough to hear 
the providence of God generally and indistinctly 
acknowledged in extraordinary events, especially 
in those which bear with them an impressive char- 
acter of moral retribution. But this is very differ- 
2 



10 SERMON I. 

ent from that habitual, enduring persuasion of the 
unlimited and uninterrupted providence of God 
in everything which attends the Christian in sor- 
row and in joy, in security and in danger, in 
private and in public, in our business and our 
devotions, in youth and in age, in time and in 
eternity. It might be supposed that the man 
who had once attained to the grand and im- 
pressive conviction that there is a God, would 
never forget it ; that the idea would intrude itself 
upon every occasion, and be associated with every 
event. But we find, alas ! that it is not so. Ev- 
erything seems an object of attention, but the beirig 
without whose aid we could attend to nothing. 
Men resort to a thousand inferior and secondary 
causes, as if it were enough to admit that there is 
one superior cause, but it is too remote or too 
incomprehensible to arrest their regard. To ac- 
count for what we know, we rest upon what we 
can see, and look not beyond creatures like 
ourselves, while God sits silently and sublimely 
at the head of all things, secretly guiding the com- 
plicated motions of his universe. 

The belief of a providence is of little value, un- 
less it become a habit of the mind. It is of little 
consequence that we see God in the whirlwind, or 
in the awful convulsions of nature, if, as soon* as 
the whirlwind has passed over, or the shaking 
earth is steadfast again, the mighty agent is forgot- 
ten. Our religious impressions of God's power, 
are intended for daily use, and not for extreme 



ON PROVIDENCE. 1 ] 

circumstances, or awful and interesting situations. 
If we acknowledge not God in prosperity, we can- 
not trust him in adversity ; if we see him not in 
the regular occurrences of nature, we shall be 
wakened by the extraordinary, only to a sentiment 
of indistinct and stupifying fear. 

Still, however, there are periods in our own 
lives, and in the affairs of the world, when we 
pause and feel uncertain of our former convictions. 
When we see the good and pious defeated in all 
their plans, always frustrated, and always suffering ; 
the vicious triumphing in prosperity ; the unprin- 
cipled elevated to power; the infidel boasting him- 
self above every name that is called God, shadows 
of doubt will at intervals fly across the most pious 
mind, and sometimes rest long upon the strongest 
understanding. 

It is to revive, and not to generate in your minds, 
a belief of the supreme control of the great Dispo- 
ser of events, that I propose now to give you the 
reasons on which this belief of God's providence is 
founded. 

The general idea of a providence is so clear and 
so common, that it needs not to be explained. 
God, we acknowledge, governs the universe. In 
the motions of the inanimate part of creation his 
power is easily acknowledged ; for, as we know that 
nothing can move itself, we are ready to admit the 
impulse of a superior agent. But we see not so 
clearly how the power of God can extend to the 
voluntary acts of intelligent beings. Perhaps this 



12 SERMON I. 

difficulty will be sufficiently removed by simply 
granting, that, as far as God has given to any class 
of beings the power of governing themselves, so far 
his own immediate agency is withdrawn. These, 
then, he governs by arranging and combining the 
circumstances in which these beings are placed, 
and by so overruling and controlling their deter- 
minations, that they shall always, directly or indi- 
rectly, advance his purposes, and accomplish his de- 
signs. It is easy also to discern, that whatever 
power has the unlimited control of the inanimate 
part of creation, and determines the situation of the 
material world, must also have the living world 
equally at his disposal ; for so intimately is every 
part of nature, animate, inanimate, and rational, 
connected, and so continually dependent is man 
upon the influence of exterior objects, that it is in- 
stantaneously felt, that whoever has the govern- 
ment of the one, possesses, of necessary conse- 
quence, that of the other. 

By the providence of God I understand, that all 
creatures, animate and intelligent, are continued in 
existence by his power, and furnished by his bounty 
with the means of preservation ; that their station 
in the scale of being is ordained by his wisdom, the 
period of their lives terminated by his previous ap- 
pointment, their number multiplied or diminished 
by his ordination, and their circumstances, in any 
period of their existence, precisely those which he 
determines and circumscribes. By the providence 
of God I mean, that not one in the vast variety of 



ON PROVIDENCE. 13 

events is accidental or fortuitous; that of the 
continual changes in mind or matter, God is not 
ignorant, even for a moment ; that not a motion 
in creation takes place which he has not foreseen, 
or for which he has not provided, or to which he 
is not present ; that the will of every agent is sub- 
ordinate to his, and accomplishes his purposes ; 
that the situation of every particle of matter, of 
every insect, bird, beast, man, or angel, or whatever 
other existences there may be which we know not, 
is, at every moment of time, precisely that which 
God ordains, and nothing else. I mean that the 
world, natural and moral, is never for an instant 
without an administration. Never is the Supreme 
Power ignorant or inattentive, never inefficient, 
never wavering. Whatever appears to resist the 
will of God, at the same time accomplishes his 
purposes ; whatever cooperates with his will, coop- 
erates not without his knowledge, his direction, 
his superintendence. 

Do you ask me whence I draw these conclu- 
sions? I answer, first, from the very nature of God. 
You acknowledge that he is a spirit. But what is 
your idea of a spirit ? Is it not of something in- 
corporeal, intelligent, and inherently active ? Can 
you imagine an intellectual force universally dif- 
fused throughout creation, which is for a moment 
idle or unemployed ? Can that spirit which form- 
ed the universe, avoid animating, sustaining, mov- 
ing, and operating upon it? I cannot conceive of 
intellect that is inactive. It must be ever in exer- 



14 SERMON I. 

tion, sustaining existence, producing events, form- 
ing purposes, accomplishing designs. I cannot 
conceive a more unintelligible or unworthy idea of 
God, than to suppose that he remains inactive at 
the head of creation, creating worlds, and leaving 
them to their fate, with a plenitude of power 
which has been but once exerted, with an unlim- 
ited intellect never exercised, never displayed. 

Again ; the necessary omnipresence of God, 
proves also his providence. What ! is he present 
at every point of space, and knows not the move- 
ments which take place in his universe ? Imagine 
him filling all nature with his influence, extending 
through all space, moving in all motion, enduring 
through all duration, animating everything that 
lives, thinking in all that thinks, acting throughout 
innumerable worlds in the mutual gravitation which 
keeps them from rushing into chaos, and can you 
avoid the conclusion, that his providence extends, 
with himself, through all nature ? Consider that 
he perceives, at one and the same moment, what- 
ever exists, and whatever changes, and that, at one 
and the same moment, he exerts the whole of his 
energy throughout the immense range of creation, 
and can you for an instant doubt his providence 
and his government ? Is he present and does he 
not act ; or is he present and does he not instan- 
taneously perceive ; or does he know, and is his 
knowledge useless ; does he act, and is his agency 
without foresight or purpose ? No, the very term 
providence, includes the notion of foresight, and 



ON PROVIDENCE. J5 

may be illustrated also from the omniscience of 
Deity, another necessary attribute. 

It may be difficult to give you a clear notion of 
that power by which God embraces within his actu- 
al knowledge, the present, the past, and the future. 
But perhaps your conceptions may be assisted by 
recollecting that things appear past or present to 
us, in consequence of the continued succession of 
our thoughts, passing one at a time through our 
minds ; for thus only we get the idea of duration. 
But since in the intellect of God, in consequence of 
its infinite diffusion in every part of creation, innu- 
merable ideas must exist at the same instant, of all 
that happens in that creation, of course that suc- 
cession of individual thoughts, which alone furnishes 
us with the idea of duration, can have no place in 
the divine mind. For, if we can suppose two ideas 
to be contemplated at the same precise moment in 
any mind, we may suppose any indefinite number ; 
the idea of succession is lost. Therefore we may 
conclude that what to us, and to all beings with 
minds like ours, appears past, or present, or future, 
exists simultaneously in the divine mind, compre- 
hended in one glance, present at one and the same 
moment. This eternal noiv, includes all that we 
call endless duration ; a duration, if I may say so, 
in the mind of God always instantaneous. Hence 
he comprehends, at the same moment, the origin, 
the progress, and the termination of every event ; 
at the same moment the meditated plan, the pro- 
gress, and the developement of creation ; at the 



16 SERMON I. 

same moment, every motion of every man's will, 
whether abortive or effectual ; at the same moment, 
the birth, life, and death of every creature now liv- 
ing, or that has ever lived ; at the same moment, 
are present to his mind all the grand eras of his- 
tory, the most interesting periods of time, the most 
remotely connected events of the past and of the 
future. The fate of every man and every angel, of 
every country and every world, of every unorgan- 
ized atom, and every organized system, is discerned 
simultaneously by the great Omniscient, through 
the successive periods of their continuance. And 
is all this knowledge without purpose, without 
wisdom, without design, without use ? It cannot 
be admitted. From the very nature, then, of God, 
we see the necessity of his providence, the regu- 
larity and universality of his administration. 

II. The second proof of the government of God's 
providence is drawn from his being the creator. 
Can it be supposed, that he who made the universe, 
lost all interest in it as soon as the act of creation 
had passed ? Would he bestow powers, and not be 
curious to know how they were exercised ? Would 
he adjust a stupendous system, and not wait to ob- 
serve its operation ? Would he have peopled the 
world with intelligences, and have taught them to 
know that they had a celestial father, and then 
have left them, cast, as it were, upon a desolate 
island in the boundless ocean of the universe, to 
struggle through a solitary existence, abandoned 
by the very being who may be supposed to love 



ON PROVIDENCE. 17 

them the most tenderly, because they were the 
creatures of his power ? Suppose it for his glory 
that they were created ; is it not as much for his 
glory to sustain and control them ? Suppose they 
are prepared for his pleasure ; and is his pleasure 
exhausted at the first view of creation ? Did he 
bring the world and its inhabitants into existence 
from a principle of benevolence ? Suppose this, 
and it is the only rational hypothesis, and the con- 
clusion is irresistible, that benevolence must be 
equally engaged in sustaining, guiding, guarding, 
and perfecting his creation. I appeal to you, ye 
fathers and mothers. Did your interest in your 
children cease from the moment that they were 
ushered into life ? Would you leave them from 
that moment to their fate ? I appeal to that inter- 
est which you take in their growth, their fortunes, 
and their end, an interest which increases with 
their years, and their improvement. And is it to 
be supposed that a care like this, which in man is 
esteemed an excellence, is not to be found in the 
great parent of mankind ? ' If ye, being evil, 
know how to give good gifts to your children,' is 
it to be believed that God has left the world un- 
guarded and unobserved, and that his children 
are born and die he knows not how, and cares not 
when ? "Where is the architect who would leave a 
nice and curious machine, which was acknowledged 
to be an illustrious monument of his skill, to fall 
into disuse and decay, in consequence of his neg- 
lect ? And has God, the great mechanician, left the 
3 



1 8 SERMON I. 

system which he has so curiously composed, to the 
revolutions of unnumbered ages, undirected by 
one who can understand its complicated motions, 
preserve in place its innumerable parts, restore its 
irregularities, and guide its movements to the grand 
and glorious purpose for which alone it was con- 
structed ? 

III. As I am adducing reasons rather than ap- 
pealing to testimony, it is not my design to bring 
forward the direct assertions of scripture in favor 
of the doctrine of this discourse. But I cannot 
refuse myself this remark, that the single circum- 
stance that a revelation has ever been made to 
mankind, is an irresistible demonstration of a 
providence, whatever the character, the design, 
the reception, or the fate of that revelation may 
be. It proves that the affairs of men are not 
overlooked, that God sometimes discerns the be- 
nevolent propriety of immediately interposing in 
the course of events ; that the progress of man's 
character and improvement is not so unalterably 
fixed by what are called the laws of nature, that it 
may not sometimes be accelerated by special as- 
sistance ; and if God's love has ever induced him 
to overstep what may be called the ordinary limits 
of his bounty, for the more certain and rapid feli- 
city of his creatures, what may we not conclude 
respecting the final issue of his universal govern- 
ment of the world ? 

Again ; if it can be shown that a single prophecy 
has been fulfilled, the same conclusion is irresist- 



ON PROVIDENCE, 19 

ible ; for prediction implies the most intimate 
knowledge of characters and events, with all their 
connexions, bearings, and dependences ; and 
whether the prediction is made merely from a 
foresight of the event, or whether the event is 
afterwards determined and the circumstances ar- 
ranged to accomplish the prediction, the conclu- 
sion is the same. Look then, I pray you, at the 
series of prophecies which the scriptures contain, 
and tell me, can you find nothing there which has 
been accomplished, nay, nothing which is perhaps 
even now accomplishing ? 

IV. Lastly, let us come to the proof from fact. 
Look around upon creation and observe the good 
order of the universe ; powers nicely adjusted, 
systems accurately balanced, worlds rushing un- 
disturbed with astonishing and noiseless rapidity 
through fields of immeasurable space, where noth- 
ing interferes, nothing stops, but all is inconceiva- 
bly vast and harmonious, and answer me what 
preserves this complex wonder of a world ? Is it 
less necessary that some power should continue, 
than that some power should have established it ? 
Whence the regularity of summer and winter, seed- 
time and harvest ? Is there no care in this ? 
Whence the unfailing succession of the genera- 
tions of men ? Whence the ordinary regularity of 
their numbers, the progressive perfection of the 
species, the prodigious variety of the individuals, the 
curiously accommodated circumstances, charac- 
ters, and stations, of men in the world ? Is there 
no providence in this ? 



20 SERMON I. 

But it is not in great operations that the intelli- 
gence, and consequently the providence of God is 
to be most clearly discerned. It is evident in a 
thousand minute and accurate adaptations of man's 
nature, and of every other creature's nature to his 
place in the system. 

If you ask why the birds were not placed in the 
sea, and the fishes in the air, I can give no answer 
but such is the ordination of their Creator. They 
were made for the element in which they live, and 
you may say, if you please, that it was chance that, 
produced this distribution, and believe it if you 
can. 

But the most easy proof of the providence of 
God in the visible works of his hands, is found, I 
think, in the power of foresight and anticipation 
with which man is endowed. We are enabled to 
look forward into futurity, to provide for what is 
to come, to form ardent expectations, and cherish 
reasonable hopes. If God then has given the 
power to a rational creature to make provision 
beyond the present moment, does it not prove 
irresistibly that the bestower of this faculty and 
this disposition, possesses them in perfection him- 
self, that he knows, and is interested in what is to 
come, that he has provided beforehand for his 
creatures ? And if his providence extends for a 
single day, or a single hour, I ask why does it not 
for every day ? why not for eternity ? Is there 
any fallacy in this conclusion ? 

But perhaps the proof is more striking in the 



ON PROVIDENCE. 2 1 

instincts of animals, where the immediate provi- 
sion of Heaven is to be seen without the aid of 
any intermediate intelligence. Whence then does 
the ant lay up in summer, her winter's food ? Do 
you suppose that she looks forward to that inclem- 
ent season ? Has she a spirit of prophecy ? Or does 
God thus provide without her knowledge for her 
continued support ? And if for her — your own 
hearts, my hearers, will draw the inference. It 
has been justly remarked that this instinct is as 
indisputable an argument for divine providence, 
as if God by miraculous interposition should an- 
nually send an angel to lay up in store for this 
industrious people, a provision for their future 
wants. 

I should delight, my hearers, to retrace with you 
the history of the world, and accumulate with you 
the proofs of God's providence. I should delight 
to follow with you the footsteps of a Divinity in 
the mighty revolutions of society, to show you the 
most important events springing from the most 
inconsiderable causes, and the ever progressive 
march of human affairs defeating the predictions 
of the wisest and proving a great Controller. I 
would show you good arising unexpectedly from 
evil, the sure melioration of the world following 
the most desperate position of human affairs, and 
the designs of providence abundantly developed. 
I would show you the dissolution of the mightiest 
empires terminating in the happiest results ; wars, 
pestilence, and convulsions forwarding the kindest 



22 SERMON I. 

designs ; the knowledge of God continually pre- 
served and continually increasing under circum- 
stances in human estimation the most unfavora- 
ble. Especially might I dwell upon the peculiar 
situation of the Jews, and their miraculous dis- 
persion, with the knowledge which they alone 
possessed ; the fulness of the time in which the 
Messiah was born, with the extraordinary situation 
of the world, exactly what it should be, for the 
best dissemination of his religion. 

Then, if more proofs were wanting, I would ap- 
peal to every individual's life ; and the history of 
every pious, and I may say, of every impious heart, 
would testify all things were of God. 

From the explanations I have given, and from 
the course of my remarks, it must have appeared, 
that there is no foundation for the usual distinc- 
tion between a general and a particular provi- 
dence ; for so intimate are the mutual .dependen- 
ces of animate and inanimate creation, that no 
providence can be general, which includes not 
every individual being, and the same arguments 
which prove that God takes notice of anything, 
prove that his providence extends equally to all. 

It shall now be my object to deduce some prac- 
tical reflections from this most interesting subject. 

< For of him, and through him, and to him are 
all things.' How grand then is God ! Christians, 
have you ever contemplated the wonderful mag- 
nificence of this controller of the universe ? ' Hast 
thou not known, hast thou not heard, that the 



ON PROVIDENCE. 23 

everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the 
earth, fainteth not, nor is weary?' The human 
mind, trying to form a conception vast enough to 
embrace the peculiar grandeur of God, feels the 
insufficiency of its powers, and finds astonished, 
how narrow is its boasted capacity ! We find that 
to understand his excellence by a single act of 
comprehension, we must possess a mind equal to 
his own. I say then again, how inexpressibly 
great is that being who penetrates at once the 
recesses, and circumscribes within himself the 
boundless ranges of creation ; who pierces into 
the profound meditations of the most sublime in- 
telligence above, with the same ease that he dis- 
cerns the wayward projects of the child ; who 
knows equally the abortive imaginations and the 
wisest plans of every creature that ever has 
thought, or that ever will think, throughout the 
realms of intellect. How trancendent that mind, 
to which all other minds are infinitely inferior, 
from the lofty seraph that stands near his throne, 
down to the poor ideot who is incapable of form- 
ing a conception of his Maker. How vast that 
comprehension, to which all the sciences of all 
the ages of the world, are not less simple, nor less 
intelligible, than the first proposition of the infant's 
earliest lesson. How wonderful is that power, 
which wields with equal ease the mightiest, and 
the feeblest agents ; directs the resistless thunder- 
bolt, or wafts a feather through the air ; bursts out 
in the imprisoned lava, or rests on the peaceful 



24 SERMON I. 

bosom of the lake ; rides on the rapid whirlwind, 
or whispers in the evening air. Think, I pray 
you, of that wisdom which conducts, at the same 
moment, the innumerable purposes of all his crea- 
tures, and whose own grand purpose is equally 
accomplished by the failure or by the success of 
all the plans of all his creatures. Think of him 
under whom all agents operate, because by him all 
beings exist. Think of him who has but to will 
it, and all moving nature pauses in her course, 
chaos succeeds to the harmony of innumerable 
spheres, and eternal darkness overwhelms this 
universe of light. Yet in the midst of darkness 
his throne is stable, and all is light about the seat 
of God. ' Such knowledge is too wonderful for 
us; for it is high, we cannot attain unto it. 5 

If the knowledge of God is thus extensive and 
minute, and his power so irresistible, surely his 
favor, my friends, must be of infinite importance 
to every creature upon earth. Suppose you had 
secured the friendship of every power in the uni- 
verse, and that even the world of invisible spirits 
waited upon your orders and guarded your life ; — 
leave but God your enemy, and what is the worth 
of your security ? Let him be but your enemy, and 
what power on earth or in heaven could protect 
you ? But on the contrary, if he is your friend, 
you have nothing to fear. The hatred of man is 
transitory, the love of God is eternal. If all the 
elements were combined against you, if all your 
plans were defeated, your sorrows multiplied with 



ON PROVIDENCE. 25 

every return of day, and the calumny of every 
breath in creation poured upon your character, if 
God is but your friend, princes shall envy you, 
worldly greatness shall bow to yours, the rich and 
mighty shall wish to change with you their lot, and 
the wicked will look up with reverence to the man 
whom God delighteth to honor. Let God be your 
friend, and the dark course of your life shall ter- 
minate in light, your integrity shall burst out at 
last like the noonday, and the light of God's coun- 
tenance shall rest in glory on your head. If God 
is your friend, all things are yours, whether life or 
death, things present or to come, time and eter- 
nity. 

My friends, would to God it were as easy to 
persuade you to a temper and conduct correspon- 
dent to this belief in God's providence, as it is to 
persuade you of its truth ! Forget not, I pray you, 
that in this great being we live, and move, and 
have our being ; nothing befalls us which he does 
not accomplish ; nothing befalls us which he can- 
not prevent. He is everywhere ; above, below, a- 
round ; nay, more, he is within us. He knows there- 
fore the secrets of the heart. Love him, then, for 
what is past ; but, whether you may trust him or 
fear him for what is to come, God only knoweth ! 



4 



SERMON II 



OUR LOT IN LIFE NOT AT OUR OWN DISPOSAL, BUT ORDERED 

BY GOD. 



Proverbs, XVI. 9. 

A man's heart deviseth his way ; BUT the lord directeth 

HIS STEPS. 

That the providence of God extends to the 
minutest concerns in the life of every man, and 
that how often soever we may be disappointed or 
lost in the uncertainties which appear to surround 
us, God's designs proceed steadily to their accom- 
plishment ; and that these designs are invariably 
benevolent in their progress, though sometimes 
their tendency is not immediately seen, are truths 
which have impressed themselves so strongly on 
my own conviction, that I cannot avoid wishing 
they may be felt with equal force by you, my chris- 
tian friends. No man, I think, can have passed 
half the term of human existence, without discover- 
ing, that more than once his projects have been 
frustrated, his courses altered, his buds of hope 
blasted, and the lofty fabric of his expectations 
overthrown, he knows not how, nor whence, nor 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. 27 

wherefore. No man, I think, would venture delib- 
erately to offend the Almighty Disposer of his lot, 
could he but realize the completeness of his depen- 
dence upon him. In the bustle of human exertion, 
it is almost impossible to keep this sentiment in 
active and uninterrupted exercise. With a view 
then of making a pious impression on our hearts, 
I shall attempt, 

First, To show how little our external' situa- 
tion in life has depended on ourselves ; and, 

Secondly, To prove, that if our circumstances 
were more at our own disposal, and our wishes 
more frequently accomplished, we should probably 
be less happy than we are at present. 

To show you how little our lot in the world has 
been in our own hands, it is not necessary to carry 
you back to those hours when you were waiting 
for life, and the little spark of existence, just kind- 
led, was trembling under every passing breath of 
casualty. It is not necessary to dwell upon the 
days of your infancy, when it was every minute 
doubtful whether the being that had been intro- 
duced into life, would live long enough to understand 
that he had a life to preserve. We will pass over 
those days of boyhood, when the understanding is 
not ripe enough to form plans, and when the fore- 
thought just appearing extends no further than to 
the pleasures, hardly to the evils of the morrow. 
We will pass over, too, the remaining years of mi- 
nority, when the imagination just begins to know 
its own alacrity, and, fertile in youthful projects, 
leaps forward from one year to another, of a life 



28 SERMON II. 

long in prospect, touching every object it meets 
with the tints of hope. The whole of this early 
period, though it often gives a lasting color to the 
remainder of life, is so little within our own power, 
and is so seldom influenced by any plans which 
we are then capable of forming, that it would be 
superfluous to insist longer upon the conclusion 
we would draw* from it. 

There is a time, however, when every man begins 
to feel something of his own self-sufficiency, when 
we choose the pursuits we mean to follow, mark 
out what we imagine to be the road to happiness, 
and, thus prepared, enter on the wide and busy- 
scene of active life. From this period, then, 
when you think you have taken the thread of your 
fortunes into your own hands, allow me to follow 
you a few steps. 

The first fact which shows us how little our 
present situation is the result of our own arrange- 
ments, is the innumerable defeats every man's 
plans encounter. I appeal to any one who has 
lived long in the world, whether, at any period of 
his life, he has found himself in the precise cir- 
cumstances he expected. This certainty of disap- 
pointment results from more than one source. In 
the first place, so various and complicated are 
human interests, so inordinate are many of our 
desires, and so unreasonable are others, that two 
individuals can hardly form extensive plans of con- 
duct which shall not interfere, if not by direct 
collision, at least in some subordinate parts, so as 
to affect the issue of the whole. What a range of 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. 29 

disappointment does this single fact open ! The 
success of one half the human race is the partial 
disappointment of the other. From this single 
source of disappointment, however real or imagin- 
ary — the contrariety of human interests — you see 
how much of your destiny on earth, is placed at 
once out of your control. 

It would be impossible to enumerate all the 
causes of the failure of our plans. One, however, 
which, more perhaps than any other, shows the 
folly of far extended projects, is the uncertainty of 
health, a blessing, which is attended with no per- 
ceptible sensation of pleasure, but which is indis- 
pensable to the full enjoyment of every other 
pleasure. And is this a good which is within the 
reach of human foresight ? I ask you, young man, 
who have been forming extensive plans of future 
eminence, you, who are so busy while the worm of 
disease is secretly feeding at the seat of life, and 
sucking the bloom of health from your cheek ? 
I ask you, laborious man of business, whose plans 
have attained all the excellence, which maturity of 
mind, long experience, and increasing confidence 
can give them, have you never felt pains which 
warn you of your mortality ? Have you never laid 
your head upon the pillow with a foreboding, that 
tomorrow might sweep you and your projects 
into oblivion ? 

What then ? Is man the arbiter of his own fate, 
when the least mite that floats in God's air, may 
derange the whole system of the human constitu- 



30 SERMON II. 

tion ? Is man the being to forget that his lot is 
not within his own disposal, when the first breeze 
may waft pestilence to his heart, and the first 
exhalation which rises up under his nostrils, may 
poison the source of his being ; and, if he recover, 
leave him a life of debility, of inactivity, perhaps 
of pain and misery ? Go to the tombstones, and 
read there the records of human disappointments. 
The heads which are now mouldering in those 
narrow cells, once teemed with plans as probable 
as yours. 

A second remark which should satisfy us that 
our present situation is not the result of our own 
foresight, is this ; that most of the pleasures we 
have met with in life were entirely unexpected ; 
and, of our successes also, how few have been the 
direct consequences of our plans ? The very 
phrase good fortune, intimates this. It implies a 
happiness which was not premeditated, which was 
not the object of our calculations, not the fair re- 
sult of any of the plans we had been laboriously 
forming. How many have vaulted into seats of 
power, lifted by the agitation of the times, into 
places to which they once dared not raise a 
thought ? What has raised the men who fill up 
such a space in history, but who make such blanks 
in creation, but the combinations of circumstan- 
ces, which they never foresaw, and tides in human 
affairs, upon which they never calculated ? 

But it is not necessary to mount so high for ex- 
amples. Enumerate, I beseech you, the pleasant 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. 31 

circumstances of a single day, and tell me how ma- 
ny of them came within your anticipations ? What 
are the pleasures which constitute the ordinary, 
therefore I may say the principal happiness of hu- 
man life, and attach us so strongly to existence .? 
Are they not the little, domestic, unsought com- 
forts, which one man enjoys almost as well as an- 
other ? And was it for these common pleasures 
of life, that you have been all along spreading your 
nets ? No, my friends, acknowledge it was not. 
It was for the glittering, the envied, the distin- 
guished blessings. You thought you should be 
miserable if you did not obtain these, and so you 
would have been, had not the All-wise Disposer of 
human affairs ordered better the sources of hu- 
man happiness. If he had left us to look out for 
all the little circumstances that make life agreea- 
ble, the whole of human felicity would be lost in 
the toil and weariness of providing for it. No, my 
friends, the prodigious variety of little circumstan- 
ces, which make up the daily comforts of life, is 
not what we seek, but what meets us every hour. 
Happiness is like the invisible, elastic fluid, which 
we breathe. If we were compelled to seek the 
pure air which supports respiration, our breath 
would be soon exhausted in the pursuit. 

A third remark only will I make, to add to the 
weight of proof, that our actual situations in life 
have been much less in our power, than the show 
of human activity would lead us at first to sup- 
pose. If you have passed the meridian of your 



32 SERMON II. 

days, I am sure you are sensible that no unvarying 
plan has hitherto conducted you. Ask that old 
man, who has approached so feebly the term 
of his life, and is now looking back upon the days 
as they roll away behind him; ask him, how often 
he has changed his courses, how often he has 
measured back his steps. Ask him, if much of the 
short period which is allotted to this busy life, has 
not been spent in recovering what has been lost, in 
framing new speculations, in guarding against new 
defeats, in altering even what once appeared to be 
his ultimate views. It is indeed often supposed 
that much of the misfortune of human affairs is the 
consequence of the instability of our purposes, and 
the perpetual changes of our plans. But perhaps 
the very contrary is often the case. For who has 
not found, that, by an obstinate adherence to his 
own plans, or too great confidence in the infalli- 
bility of former conclusions, opportunities are con- 
tinually lost, and many a life worn out in discon- 
tentment, and hopes never realized, which might 
otherwise have been conducted in triumph under 
the banners of success ? What then is the conclu- 
sion from this fact ? that, in order to secure the 
greatest prosperity, it is necessary to change often 
our pursuits, and even our ultimate views ? Or is 
it not this ; that in consequence of the narrowness 
of our comprehension, our best plans are so liable 
to defeat, that it is absurd in any case to say, that 
the situation in which we find ourselves, is the di- 
rect result of our own contrivance, and of course 
that our lot in life is at our own disposal ? 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. S3 

The second division of our subject now calls 
for our attention. In this I proposed to show 
you, that even if our circumstances in life were 
more at our own disposal, and our views more fre- 
quently accomplished, we should find that we had 
consulted our own happiness much less frequently 
and successfully, than it is now provided for, by 
what we call the uncertainties and accidents of 
life. 

No doubt most men, at the close of their days, 
imagine, that if they were to begin life again, 
they should conduct it with more prudence, and 
probably with greater success. But even this 
common sentiment we know to be extremely fal- 
lacious. How much more doubtful, then, or errone- 
ous are the notions of those, who are entering 
into life, and who imagine, that if they were once 
permitted to make their own fortunes, they should 
infallibly make their own felicity ! 

In this age of accumulation, the majority per- 
haps of mankind, if allowed to have their first 
wish, would place themselves immediately in the 
possession of wealth. A few might be found of 
moderate designs, but most men would rush at 
once into opulence, under the vain expectation 
that they were ensuring a perpetuity of good, in 
every treasure they deposited for future supply. 
As soon, however, as the first flush of acquisition 
is over, if you ask them whether they have found 
that wealth is happiness, they will tell you that 
they have made a deplorable mistake. They will 
5 



34 SERMON II. 

tell you, that they have found, to their astonish- 
ment, that the care of preserving property was as 
painful as the anxiety of procuring it, and that to 
possess was not to enjoy. They will tell you, that 
they have found innumerable pleasures which 
wealth did not assist them to enjoy, many which 
it strangely interrupted, and a few from which it 
had completely excluded them. Recollect, too, 
my friends, that this person, whom we have now 
allowed to choose his situation in life, has chosen 
it for life. He is to be a rich man, a rich man 
only, and a rich man forever. Infallible disposer 
of your own lot ! you shall be allowed another 
trial. 

Your ruling passion, then, is fame. Let my life, 
you say, be short, if it be but brilliant. I will live, 
though but for an hour here, yet will I live in the 
admiration of posterity ; though seen, and gazed 
at but for a little time by my cotemporaries, I shall 
return, like a comet, in the revolutions of centuries, 
to be the wonder of a remote generation. Riches, 
I disdain, for they are accessible to any man ; 
health, I am proud to sacrifice ; power, 1 value not, 
except as it belongs to mind ; station, in the com- 
mon interested grades of society, I am ashamed 
to aspire to; mind is my kingdom; obscurity 
only is my dread ; to be unknown, is what alone 
can make me miserable. A life may be celebrated 
even because it is short. Let me float, though it 
be but a day, a beautiful meteor on the breath of 
popularity. I have chosen my lot in life. Grant 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. S5 

my wish, and I am happy. Vain man ! it is grant- 
ed. You are envied, depreciated, sacrificed. 
Pale, with the laurels round your brow, you have 
succeeded ; but success cannot restore the color 
of health, which the anxiety of being applauded, 
has worn away from your cheek. Your temper, 
too, is ruined ; you have become unnaturally sensi- 
tive to every word or look which threatens you 
with censure ; painfully jealous of those whom 
you ought to love ; insensible of the clearest worth 
of your competitors ; consumed with a feverish 
thirst for admiration, or swollen with a solitary 
pride, which shuts you out from half the pleasures 
of sympathy, and from half the joys of benevo- 
lence. This world, then, is no longer agreeable 
than while it praises you ; therefore you make friends 
with the next generation, which shall neither love 
nor hate, neither flatter nor betray you. This, 
then, is the portion you have chosen ; to be ap- 
plauded, instead of being loved, to be proud, in- 
stead of being happy, and you are rewarded by 
the unsubstantial honors in the gift of posterity, 
instead of the personal attachment of the genera- 
tion in which you live. Do not say, my young 
friend, that I have deserted my first supposition, 
and that all this wretchedness is the attendant, 
not of fame attained, but of fame anxiously de- 
sired. The objection would be satisfactory if the 
love of fame were a passion which could be 
quenched by the attainment of its objects. No, 
its appetite grows by what it feeds on. 



36 SERMON II. 

It would be superfluous to mention more of 
cases, which are so easily imagined. It is plain 
that if we were allowed to choose our future lot, 
we should all prefer some change from our pre- 
sent situation. This man would put himself for- 
ward a step in the ranks of society, and that would 
grasp at a little more power ; one would seek, as 
we have supposed, for fame, another for wealth ; 
some would choose uninterrupted health, and its 
attendant activity ; others would prefer inactivity, 
quietness, security, and ease. But how is it that 
all these sagacious arbiters of their own destiny 
have failed in the attainment of a common object ? 
How is it, my friends, that if left to ourselves, we 
should consult our own happiness less than it is 
already consulted by the uncertainties, the disap- 
pointments, the casualties of the present arrange- 
ment of human affairs ? The reason is simply 
this ; that happiness does not consist in external 
circumstances. Of course, arrange your situation 
in life as you please ; surround yourself with 
wealth, power, influence, fame ; still, if you bring 
not with you the temper most proper for your 
situation, you have lost, rather than gained, by the 
privilege you have exercised. Such is the wis- 
dom of God's providence, that the temper most 
proper for every situation, can be formed only by 
feeling the very uncertainty on which that situa- 
tion is granted. 

I cannot leave this division of my subject, with- 
out indulging some further speculations, on the 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. 37 

wisdom of these apparently uncertain arrange- 
ments of Providence. 

However paradoxical it may appear, I will ven- 
ture to assert, that if the formation of our moral 
characters depended less than it now does upon 
unforeseen circumstances, in other words, if the 
virtues which men sometimes exhibit, were placed 
more easily within their own power, we should 
probably be not only less happy, but even less vir- 
tuous than we now are. It is not too bold to sug- 
gest that even a man under the influence of a pure 
moral principle, and aspiring after eminent attain- 
ments in goodness, if left to choose his own char- 
acter, would neither consult his own true worth, 
nor his best happiness. We should see him carried 
away with false estimates of particular excellences. 

One man, transported with lofty notions of patri- 
otism, or glowing with the flame of universal be- 
nevolence, to attain the moral reputation he most 
desired, would bend all the powers of his mind, 
and accommodate all the affections of his heart, to 
exhibit a character like Washington's or Howard's. 
Yet this man, though burning with a pure ambition 
of excellence, being unable to conceive complete- 
ly, what constitutes the perfection of this or that 
virtue, and not placed in precisely the situation of 
his model, would find himself ridiculous at the very 
summit of his attainments. He would find, that in 
his w T ild pursuit of these splendid virtues, his pri- 
vate and particular affections had suffered. He 
would find, that what he had gained in universal 



38 SERMON II. 

philanthropy, he had lost in individual sympathy, 
and you would probably discern that he was a less 
affectionate son, a less careful parent, a less useful 
private citizen. If patriotism or universal benev- 
olence were to become his passion, you would find 
him sacrificing the great laws of mutual justice, 
to the imagined interests of his own country, or of 
the world at large ; and his moral sense, which 
was once a nice test of right and wrong in human 
actions, would be destroyed by too great familiari- 
ty with the maxims of national policy, or with the 
speculations of universal benevolence. Thus we 
may venture to predict, that this man, when arriv- 
ed at the summit of the excellence he most earn- 
estly sought, would in fact be a man of less moral 
worth, than if his character had been left to be 
formed by the plastic power of the common situa- 
tions, uncertainties, disappointments, and casual- 
ties of life. 

I will suppose another case, in which a man 
shall be permitted to choose his own character. 
It is that of one impressed with a deep sense of 
the importance of religious opinions. He looks 
around on the world, and his heart aches, when he 
views the creatures of God perishing in ignorance 
of what, he thinks, can alone constitute their feli- 
city. He glows with a zeal which to him appears 
the purest of human passions. 

If he were to choose the character he would ex- 
hibit to the world, it would be that of a man pas- 
sionately devoted to the progress of religious opin- 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. 39 

ions. Nay, more, he would establish the charac- 
ter to which he aspires, if it were necessary, by 
marching cheerfully to the stake, and dying a mar- 
tyr in the cause of his God. He is afraid of in- 
curring the suspicion of lukewarmness, and w T ould 
change any situation in life, if he could open a 
wider field for the exercise of his zeal. But take 
care that you are not too impatient to burst the 
limited sphere in which God has placed you. Your 
zeal, if it had all the scope you wish, might break 
out into passion ; your deep sense of the value of 
religious opinions might tread on the brink of un- 
charitableness, and your ardor for reform, might, 
if your station would admit of it, lead you to re- 
form by persecution, instead of persuasion. No, 
my friend, trust the shaping of your character in 
the hands of Providence. He has placed you in 
circumstances where you are obliged to love men 
with whom you differ, and to cooperate with men, 
whom you burn to reform. Sometimes God cools 
your ardor in his own cause by disappointments, 
for which you cannot account ; sometimes he 
places you in situations which you find it difficult 
to accommodate to your principles of conduct, 
and opens to you views which make you doubt 
the infallibility of your own conclusions. In short, 
God, by the circumstances and connexions in 
which you have been placed, has made you truly 
useful, whereas you might have been only zealous ; 
he has kept you candid, when you might have 
been uncharitable ; he has given you influence on- 



40 SERMON II. 

ly, where you wanted power, and has preserved you 
a mild example of the excellence of his religion, 
when your own enthusiasm might have dishonored 
the cause you had espoused, or your passions have 
led you to the stake, a vain and unprofitable mar- 
tyr. 

Indulge me, my friends, with one supposition 
more on this subject, and I have done. 

Here is a man, whose ruling passion is honor. 
If he were allowed to fashion his own reputation, 
he would be distinguished for an excessive sensi- 
bility which feels a stain as it would a wound. In- 
fluenced by the contemplation of imaginary charac- 
ters, he endeavours to form himself after the model 
of heroes he has admired in history, or characters 
that he has contemplated in the lustre of romance. 
But as soon as this man enters into the world of ac- 
tual existences, lie finds that he has been prepar- 
ing himself for a different sphere. He finds that 
the every day virtues of sober and industrious citi- 
zens meet with a better reception, than all the re- 
finements of superior spirits, with the light of which 
he hoped to encircle his character. He begins to 
suspect that he has fashioned his feelings for a 
state of society which it is the amusement of ro- 
mancers only to pourtray, and of enthusiasts to im- 
agine, and that he has lost much of the happiness 
which he might have found in this mixed world, 
merely by seeking for beings which do not yet 
exist, and cherishing expectations, which the ordi- 
nary race of his companions will delight to disap- 



DISPOSAL OF OUR LOT. 41 

point. He will wish in vain, that he had been 
cast from his youth among the roughnesses and 
disappointments of life, that he might have acquir- 
ed a disposition adapted to the world in which he 
is to bustle ; and if God should once more allow 
this child of refinement to choose the character he 
would sustain in life, you would find him seeking 
for happiness in the customary track of human 
virtues. 

You will recollect, my friends, that in the be- 
ginning of this discourse we hoped to establish 
two conclusions. First, that God alone disposes 
of our lot in life ; and secondly, that his arrange- 
ments are made with the kindest intentions toward 
every individual. These conclusions are most 
interesting, most important, and most consolitory. 

Let us bow at the feet of the Omniscient Being 
who orders our circumstances in life, and say, O 
God ! I am ashamed of my pride, my discontent, 
and my vain expectations. I have been disap- 
pointed in life, but it was thou who didst disappoint 
me, and I murmur not. I have been fortunate, 
but it was thy blessing which gave this unexpected 
success to my projects, and I am humble. If my 
plans had always succeeded, they would have 
interfered with the wise arrangements of thy 
providence, and merely for my partial good, dis- 
concerted the profound and extensive operations 
of thy wisdom and beneficence. When I look 
back upon my life, I see that thou hast trained 
me up in the sure and progressive order of thy 
6 



42 SERMON II. 

providence, to the character and the hopes, which 
I now possess. When I have thought myself 
abandoned, thou hast been watching me with 
paternal care ; when I supposed myself most mis- 
erable, I have found myself nearer to the acquisi- 
tion of the only permanent good. The very 
circumstances of my life, which I thought the 
most inauspicious, I find the most favorable, and 
the very trials, which I thought would terminate 
in my misery or death, I now find had the most 
benevolent tendency, the most cheerful conclusion. 
My expectations have been often defeated, and 
my views altered, but I still find myself crowned 
with loving kindness, and surrounded with oppor- 
tunities for virtue and happiness. In all the events 
of life, then, I will bless, thee. Though the fig- 
tree should not blossom, and there should be no 
fruit in the budding vine of my hopes, yet will I 
bless the Lord, and joy in the God of my salvation. 
I have trusted thee for this life, and with senti- 
ments like these, in continual exercise, may I not 
trust thee, O God, for eternity ? 



SERMON III. 



ON THE EVIDENCES OF A RETRIBUTION FOR SIN. 
Romans, II. 16. 



IN THE DAY WHEW GOD SHALL JUDGE THE SECRETS OF MEJV BY 
JESUS CHRIST, ACCORDING TO MY GOSPEL. 



The doctrine of a future judgment and conse- 
quent retribution after death, is the first princi- 
ple of all religion, and the foundation of all reli- 
gious obedience. It supposes a power above us, 
which observes, while it upholds ; a being from 
whom nothing in our character, or conduct, or 
destiny is hidden, and to whom it will be as easy 
to assign with equity our future condition, as it 
was to appoint our present lot. It supposes that 
we are here on trial for eternity, that we know our 
obligations and our powers, and that we must 
hereafter render an account of our conduct. II 
it were true that the revelations which God has 
given us, had not expressly declared that there 
would be a day of judgment for every moral agent, 
it would not be the less probable ; for the whole 
system of Christianity and the whole language of 



44 SERMON III. 

the scriptures proceed on the supposition of such 
a retribution ; and, whatever there may be of 
figure and embellishment in the descriptions which 
the gospel contains of this solemn proceeding; 
whether the whole of this great transaction will 
be finished in one literal day, or the whole world 
be congregated in one great assembly ; the sub- 
stantial truth of the doctrine is not affected, that 
God will hereafter judge the secrets of men by 
Jesus Christ, and render to every man according 
to his works. 

There is a solemnity in this doctrine which no- 
thing in religionjsurpasses, and a reasonableness 
in it which commends it to the wants and best 
judgments of men. No man can have lived long 
in the world and not felt the secret conviction that 
a day will come when the inequalities of present 
fortune will be rectified, and the righteousness of 
God be displayed. Let us devote this day to the 
contemplation of this great doctrine of the gos- 
pel. 

In reflecting upon it, we shall first attempt 
to observe some of the numerous indications of 
a moral government already commenced in the 
world ; 

Secondly, from the imperfect degree to which 
it is here carried, notice the strong presumption we 
have for believing that it will be at some time com- 
pleted ; 

Thirdly, observe the assurance which the gospel 
gives us, that such a judgment and retribution will 
take place hereafter. 



RETRIBUTION. 45 

First, then, we are to attend to some of the nu- 
merous indications of a moral and judicial govern- 
ment already commenced in the present state. 

To a reflecting mind there can be no doubt 
that there is a God who judgeth in the earth, or, 
in other words, that we are under a moral govern- 
ment. The very idea of the thing is almost suffi- 
cient to prove that such a government exists ; for 
whence should the notions of right and wrong, 
merit and demerit, reward and punishment, arise, 
except from that constitution of things in which 
God has placed us ? That course of providence 
or discipline, which generates the idea of virtue, 
and gives it its good character in our minds, indi- 
cates the intention of that God who loveth righte- 
ousness, and hateth iniquity. To the same point 
also tend many of the institutions of society. Civil 
government is to be regarded as an ordinance of 
God for the terror and punishment of evil doers, 
and a security and encouragement to them that do 
well. The punishment of the wicked, and the 
restraints of the ill disposed, however imperfectly 
effected by this institution, are yet to be regarded 
as a general effect, indicating the moral intention 
of God, who ruleth in the earth. The same inten- 
tion is also intimated to us in the universal impres- 
sion of parental authority, although, like civil gov- 
ernment, it is too often imperfectly administered. 

A more sensible indication of the moral govern- 
ment of God we find in the sentiment which of- 
fences against society naturally excite in observ- 



46 SERMON III. 

ers. It is not merely a sentiment of fear, which is 
excited by the evil doer, but one of indignation and 
contempt, even when he has escaped the penalty 
of human laws. It does not destroy the proof 
which these sentiments furnish of a moral consti- 
tution, to say, that they are the effect of education, 
or of a refined state of society ; because, if the Au- 
thor of our being has so constituted the nature 
and circumstances of all his creatures, that these 
sentiments are always generated in the course of 
man's social existence, this fact is enough to en- 
title us to call it a moral provision, indicating the 
judicial government of God, by which he inflicts 
punishment on the offenders against society. Be- 
sides this retribution from society, there is a pun- 
ishment provided for personal vices in the conse- 
quences which follow them in the frame of the hu- 
man body ; and there is no excess which is not 
closely, or remotely pursued by its natural retri- 
bution, weakness, disease, and death. 

But the most important witness of the moral and 
judicial government of God, is undoubtedly to be 
found within the mind itself. When we speak of 
conscience, every man knows what we mean ; for 
its tribunal is within him, and this vicegerent of 
the divine justice exercises a power, from which it 
is impossible entirely to escape, though it is some- 
times silenced, corrupted, or deceived. This it is, 
which makes cowards of the most abandoned in 
the hour of death, which flashes its light into the 
most secret retreats of the guilty, and breathes an 



RETRIBUTION. 47 

acknowledged horror over the prosperity of the 
wicked. This it is, which renders the face of na- 
ture horrible to the man, who bears about with him 
the worm that never dies ; this is the avenger, 
which waits only for a moment of solitude, or an 
interval of retirement, to make the proudest and 
most important of villains weary of life, and if it 
find him never alone, pursues him even in his 
dreams, and terrifies him with visions of the night. 
It is a rewarder also, as well as a punisher ; an ap- 
prover, as well as a condemner. It is regarded 
not merely as a strong indication of the divine 
government, but as constituting the most exten- 
sive and effectual provision which God has made 
for the administration of justice ; and there is no 
man who has ever fallen under its sentence, who 
will not confess that it is the minister as well as 
the interpreter of divine justice. 

Has your conscience ever reproached you ? 
Did it not then, at that very moment, lift a corner 
of the veil which is yet drawn over this scene 
of future judgment? Every public oath, every 
faltering perjury, every dying confession, every 
prayer for mercy, every face pale with falsehood, 
and every wild look of despair is an appeal which 
our reason acknowledges, to this future tribunal. 

When Paul was reasoning of righteousness, tem- 
perance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled. 
The rising of the procurator from his seat, was it- 
self a proclamation, loud as the voice of the in- 
spired apostle, that the doctrine which he taught 



48 SERMON III. 

was no chimera. But if the Roman governor 
chooses, let him refer these suggestions of his trou- 
bled mind to the class of superstitious delusions, 
and maintain that these suggestions do not demon- 
strate such a retribution as the apostle was preach- 
ing. Be it so then ; and let Felix take his seat 
again, and demand another proof; for conscience, 
though it makes us cowards, does not always make 
us believers. Let the trial then of the innocent 
proceed. Let the judge, who has the preacher in 
his power, proceed to pass his iniquitous sentence, 
and cut off at once the argument and the life of 
the apostle. Nay, more; let him retire now with 
his guards, and ask, where is this judgment of 
which the prisoner prated so long? Now call 
in the spectators of this injustice, the sufferers un- 
der his administration ; show the plunder which 
Felix has collected, the villages smoking under 
his rapacious edicts. Let them hear the cries of his 
innocent victims, and the loud appeals to Heaven, 
from every part of Judea, against the cruelty of the 
unprincipled procurator ; and then ask them 
whether Paul's doctrine is true, and you will hear 
another answer. 

It appears, then, whatever credit we may refuse 
to give to the language of our own consciences on 
this subject, we are ready to believe in a retribu- 
tion to come, when we ourselves suffer injustice, or 
when we see; as well as feel, the inconveniences of 
the imperfect retribution of the present life. 
These are arguments which strike the most obtuse 



RETRIBUTION. 49 

understandings, and many a man who doubts of a 
doctrine taught him by his conscience, will have 
no longer a doubt, when the same doctrine is pre- 
sented to him by his sufferings, or by his passions. 

Besides the reproaches of conscience, there are 
the pangs of mind attendant on particular evil 
passions, such as the pinings of envy, the heat of 
rage, the goadings of ambition, and the fears of 
avarice, all of which are indications of a moral 
constitution, and are avengers of the divine laws. 

These proofs of a moral and judicial govern- 
ment are much more numerous than a superficial 
glance at society would lead any man to suppose. 
God has everywhere innumerable instruments at 
his disposal, and the methods by which he may 
punish offenders here on earth are various, far 
beyond our imagination ; and, let us never forget, 
that the process may be going on in the mind, 
when it is yet utterly imperceptible to others. We 
should not be so much disposed to doubt the equi- 
ty of the divine administration, and to regard this 
world as a scene where vice is often unpunished, 
and virtue unrewarded, if we were not so much 
dazzled by external circumstances as to regard 
men's visible condition as the indication of their 
happiness. We wonder that the lightning does 
not blast the murderer, or the earth open and 
swallow up the blasphemer, and cry 'Doth not 
God see ? ' when, if we will but think, we shall be 
satisfied that there is a secret, gradual, and certain 
process continually going on within, which is the 
7 



50 SERMON III. 

natural retribution which God has appointed, and 
which is quite as decided an indication of a moral 
government, to those who will attend to it, as if 
the ear tli opened, or the thunderbolt fell. God 
indeed causes his sun to shine, and his rain to de- 
scend on the just and on the unjust. He does not 
give us a visible sign from heaven to resolve our 
perplexities ; but, if we will look within, we shall 
find the sign we want. 

The circumstances we have now enumerated 
are abundantly sufficient to prove the commence- 
ment of a moral and judicial government. Indeed 
men do not in general deny it. They see the 
characters written on the wall, and it is only when 
interest or passion deceives them, that they fail to 
discern that there is a God who judgeth in the 
earth, and that we are accountable to his govern- 
ment. 

It may seem extraordinary that we should have 
taken so much pains to show the commencement 
of a retribution here, as a preliminary to the proof 
of a retribution hereafter. Why not come at once 
to the arguments for a future life and judgment? 
But it ought to be considered that it is only from 
the indications of a moral government here, that, 
exclusive of revelation, we can infer the probabili- 
ty of any retribution hereafter ; it is from its com- 
mencement here, that we expect its continuance, 
and from its imperfect dispensation in this world, 
that we infer its completion and perfection in 
another. 



RETRIBUTION. 51 

II. We come then to our second head, where it is 
our object to prove that while there are so many 
circumstances to demonstrate the existence of a 
moral and judicial government in the world, there, 
are certain facts which compel us to believe that 
its execution is here incomplete, and that the ap- 
parent inequalities will be rectified. From among 
these numerous inequalities and defects I will 
mention only one, which strikes me with peculiar 
force. 

It is very easy to find reasons why virtue and 
piety should here be exposed to affliction. It not 
only tries, but it confirms the force of a virtuous 
mind ; and I have no hesitation in saying that 
such a state as ours, where there is one event alike 
to the righteous and the wicked, is perfectly 
proper as a state of probation. Indeed I know 
not how any great degree of virtue could exist, 
where there was no principle of religious faith in 
a retribution to come ; and this could not, and 
would not be, if temporal reward and punishment 
easily and equitably followed every degree of 
virtue and vice. But though such a condition as 
our present state, is undoubtedly calculated to 
form virtue, it is not a state so well calculated to 
reward it, nor to punish vice. A state of probation 
therefore infallibly conducts us to a state of retri- 
bution. 

The instance which we were about to observe 
as a strong indication of some future day of re- 
compense, is this. There are numerous exam- 



52 SERMON III. 

pies of good men suffering, on the very account 
of their piety and integrity, from the hands of 
the wicked. Now, how much soever such tri- 
als may exercise and improve the character of 
the sufferer, yet, exclusive of a life to come, 
such virtue not only seems not to meet with any 
adequate recompense, but does not appear to 
answer any purpose of wisdom and goodness, 
but to be punished with misery and destruction. 
Let it be admitted that the sufferings of the 
good man have contributed to form his virtue ; 
yet, if there be no future recompense, for what 
is it formed ? To be destroyed ? What ! a har- 
vest which has sprung from religion, the very 
root and principle of which is faith in God, and 
the hope of the life to come, and yet he, who doth 
nothing in vain, hath formed such virtue in vain? 
Impossible ! What we know and have seen of God 
will not allow us to believe this disappointment, 
or that those who have fallen in the cause of virtue 
have perished. 

And, on the other hand, although, as we have 
shown before, the common degrees of vice find 
their retribution in the very constitution of human 
nature, and the course of providence, yet we all 
know that the most hardened depravity is often 
the most easy. The greatest excesses are perpe- 
trated by men who have lost the sense of shame, 
the fear of the laws, and the power of conscience. 
Surely it cannot be that the most thorough wick- 
edness and the most eminent virtue are unprovid- 



RETRIBUTION. 53 

ed for in the administration of Providence. No 
reflecting man can believe this. The reward of 
those, who, by their uncommon fidelity to virtue, 
lose its ordinary advantages here, is not then lost, 
but only reserved. 

III. We come now to the third division of our 
discourse, in which we intended to inquire what 
revelation says on this subject. We shall find that 
our Saviour not only declares most explicitly a re- 
tribution to come, but also describes, in language 
suited to our finite comprehension, the mode in 
which it will be dispensed. 

Indeed it may seem almost superfluous to quote 
from the scriptures, in support of this doctrine ; 
for, upon the supposition of its truth, all the in- 
structions of our Saviour and his apostles proceed. 
It was to bring it to light that our Saviour came 
into the world ; it is on his death, and after re- 
surrection, that the strongest proof of our future 
life is raised ; and if we were called upon to give 
a summary of the gospel itself, I know not how it 
could be more compendiously stated, than to say, 
that God will assuredly raise mankind to another 
life, and judge them according to their works, by 
Jesus Christ. 

'I saw the dead,' says the author of the Book of 
Revelation, ' stand before God, small and great ; 
and the books were opened, and the dead were 
judged out of those things which were written in 
the books, according to their works.' We have in 
other places a description of the future retribution 



54 SERMON III. 

in the forms of a judicial trial. How far this lan- 
guage is accommodated to our apprehensions, and 
derived from the forms of human tribunals, I pre- 
sume not to say. He, however, will not have a 
less powerful and religious conception of this final 
account, who considers the book in which our ac- 
tions are recorded as the mind of God, who sees 
at a glance all that is past, present, and to come ; 
and that the division of the assembled universe to 
the right and to. the left hand of the Judge, is an 
expression of the distinction, the everlasting dis- 
tinction, of the character and fate of the righteous 
and the wicked. 

Let us consider a few more of the scriptural de- 
lineations of this great event, remembering that 
whether they be understood literally or not, is of 
no importance as to the reality of the fact, or the 
final issue of the event ; for this much is certain, 
that after death there will be a judicial dispensa- 
tion of rewards and punishments, and that every 
soul will be punished or rewarded, in whatever 
manner this may be, according to the good or the 
evil of his past life.' 

We have the most particular account of this day 
of judgment given by our Saviour himself, in the 
twentyfifth chapter of Matthew. Another very in- 
telligible description of the diversity of the re- 
wards in the future life, we have, in the parable of 
the talents, which it is unnecessary to repeat. 
' We must all appear before God, 5 saith St Paul, 
'that every one may receive according to the 



RETRIBUTION. 5q 

things done in the body, whether they be good or 
whether they be evil.' 

For the day is coming, when every eye shall 
see him who was once on earth in suffering and 
humility, despised and rejected of men ; but when 
he shall appear it shall be in power and great glo- 
ry ; for the Lord Jesus Christ shall descend from 
heaven with a shout, and with the voice of the 
archangel and the trump of God. In a moment, 
in a twinkling of an eye, those who are alive shall 
be changed. The men who shall call upon the 
rocks to shelter and the mountains to crush them, 
shall find the hills melt, and the foundations of the 
earth, and all nature passing away like a scroll. 
Watch, then, for ye know not the day, nor the hour. 
And however we may amuse ourselves with the 
thought, that these desriptions are accommodated 
to our gross and finite apprehensions, and that the 
literal language of the scriptures will not be ac- 
complished, of this fact we have all the assurance" 
which the word of God can give us, that we must 
stand before him, to receive according to the deeds 
done in the body ; and then the wicked shall be 
punished with everlasting destruction from the 
presence of the Lord and the glory of his power, 
and the righteous shall enter to his joy, and live 
forever with Jesus Christ, in those mansions 
which he is preparing, and which were designed 
for them before the foundations of the w 7 orld. 
'What I say unto you,' then, in the words of our 
Lord, « I say unto all, Watch.' 



SERMON IV. 



THE DISCLOSURES OF THE FUTURE JUDGMENT. 
Romans, II. 16. 

IN the DAY WHEST GOD shall judge the secrets of mejnt BY JESUS 

CHRIST, ACCORDING TO MY GOSPEL. 

Our remarks this afternoon will relate to the 
great importance of the doctrine, which we con- 
sidered this morning, of a future judgment, es- 
pecially when it is viewed as a revelation of the 
secrets of all hearts. 

When we reflect on the insufficiency of hu- 
man laws, the vast sum of evil against which hu- 
man legislation cannot provide, and the vast 
amount of good for which this world and its laws 
neither offer nor procure a recompense, we feel 
the importance of this doctrine of a judgment to 
come. When we are impatient at the long re- 
sounding groans of a land in bondage, and the in- 
quiry is awakened whether there is not verily a 
reward for the righteous, let us consider that 
these are visible and public evils ; but let us ask 
also, what shall be the retribution for all that hy- 



FUTURE JUDGMENT. 57 

pocrisy, which has enjoyed the favor of the world ? 
What shall be the fate of those who have escaped 
the detection of all but their own consciences ? 
Shall there be no account taken of those sinful in- 
clinations, which have never ripened into acts ; of 
those wicked intentions, which death or accident 
has frustrated ; no retribution for ingratitude, 
treachery, and many other offences of which nei- 
ther the tribunal of public opinion nor of public 
law, is empowered to take cognizance ? 

Let us remember also, that the laws of society 
are full of threats and penalties, but barren of re- 
wards. They repress only the greatest crimes, 
and have no recompense for the greatest virtues. 
The world offers little encouragement for secret 
and unpretending goodness. Will there not then 
be a day of judgment, when it shall not be forgot- 
ten who have secretly cast their mite, even all 
their living, into the treasury of human virtue and 
happiness ? 

The doctrine of a God, from whom nothing is 
hidden, and whose future judgment no creature 
can escape, is the very keystone of all the reli- 
gions in the world. Take it away and society be- 
comes a desolate mass of ruins. While then we 
feel the value of this doctrine as Christians and 
believers in God, what shall we think of those 
men, who, because they will not listen to the de- 
clarations of the Son of God, are yet willing, not 
only to despoil the believer of his hope, but see, 
without alarm, the foundations of human virtue bro- 
8 



58 SERMON IV. 

ken up, and all the fidelity of promises, the force 
of oaths, and every hold which truth and virtue 
give us upon one another, left to the protection 
of an undefined and variable sense of honor, 
which is, to say the most, as perishable as the 
creatures whom it governs. 

Thus much we have thought proper to repeat 
of the truth and importance of this doctrine, not 
because your faith in it is weak, but to prepare 
you for the consideration of that circumstance 
mentioned in the text, that God will, in that day, 
judge the secrets of men. Leave out but this sin- 
gle fact, that the secrets of all hearts shall then be 
revealed for the purpose of an equitable decision, 
and we leave out the most interesting and solemn 
of the circumstances which attend the scene of 
judgment. 

What a day will that be, which shall uncover 
the vast repository of human secrets ? which shall 
lay bare the concealed crimes, the forgotten fol- 
lies, and the unacknowledged motives of all the 
thoughtless actors in this busy world ; the hidden 
purposes, wishes, fears, sorrows, and miseries of 
every creature that has ever been endowed with 
thought ; the unregarded virtues, the ill requited 
goodness, the undervalued worth of the children 
of heaven ; in one word, which shall expose all 
that man has loved, all that he has dreaded, de- 
sired, or intended ! The thought is too great for 
us to feel its force, and we must attend to it in 
parts, that, by enumerating, we may strengthen 
rather than weaken the force of the persuasion. 



FUTURE JUDGMENT. 59 

Then shall God expose to view the many de- 
liberate acts of hypocrisy, which have defied all 
human scrutiny. Then it will be seen what trusts 
were broken, what perjuries committed, and what 
equivocations were contrived by the deceitful 
dealer, to amass and keep his illgotten wealth ; 
for his wealth will then no longer purchase him 
concealment and security. Then will the testi- 
mony of those who have been taken off by secret 
violence, rise in one dreadful reclamation before 
the tribunal of eternal justice, and the groans of 
the injured and forgotten overwhelm the trium- 
phant oppressor. Then will those dazzling and 
awe-commanding crimes, which have deluded the 
whole world, be laid bare to the indignation of the 
meanest sufferer from the oppression of the usur- 
per. Then will many an object of mistaken admi- 
ration be exposed ; the formal saint who believed 
nothing; the smiling calumniator who meant no- 
thing ; the unprofitable man who did nothing but 
purchase, by his professions, a temporary estima- 
tion. Then will the false witness, and the cor- 
rupt judge, the incendiary and the hidden crimi- 
nal, whether small or great, stand revealed in the 
light of his countenance, whose eyes are as a 
flame of fire, and whose understanding is infinite. 

Then will be disclosed the motives of those ac- 
tions which have either received the applause of 
mankind, or been the subject of doubtful or timid 
condemnation. We shall see at what the patriot 
aspired, when he pushed himself into the notice 



60 SERMON IV. 

of his countrymen ; what the orator meant when 
he poured out his honied words ; and the preach- 
er when he awakened the hopes or fears of his 
auditory. Then the public declarations of those 
who directed the affairs of the times in which they 
lived, and changed the fortunes of a nation, will 
be compared with their purposes and wishes, and 
the history of the world be read, not in the page 
of the eloquent, historian, but in the records of 
eternal truth. 

Then shall be known also, wherefore the believ- 
er in Christianity has been ashamed to profess it, 
and how far the multitude of professors have acted 
up to their profession. Then it shall be discover- 
ed how much of all the vast contributions of char- 
ity in the christian world, has been given not 
grudgingly and of necessity, and how much of all 
that has been bestowed on the relief of human 
misery, was truly given to relieve it. 

Then shall men be made known to themselves. 
To everv individual his own character will be re- 
vealed which had been so often, and so strangely 
misapprehended by himself. These discoveries 
indeed will be enough to cover the best of men 
with temporary confusion ; for when we come to 
understand the strange mixture of the motives 
which have governed us, the confusion of better 
and meaner principles, of zeal with passion, of 
humility with disappointed ambition, good con- 
science with spiritual pride, charity with the de- 
sire of estimation, love of truth with love of par- 



FUTURE JUDGMENT. Q\ 

adox, integrity with obstinacy, honor with base 
fear, correct sentiment with pride of opinion, love 
of peace with indolence and cowardice, and van- 
ity, that most delusive of our motives, with all the 
rest, the best man will be astonished, and the worst 
be terrified at the labyrinths of his own character. 

But there is yet another, and a deeper abyss of 
secrets to be broken up, and that is, of the before 
unknown and unacknowledged miseries of human- 
kind. What a sound of groans issues at this open- 
ing of the depths of human sorrows ; how many 
voices, hardly ever heard before, now utter their 
piercing cries before the assembled universe. Now 
shall be seen how much more impartial has been 
that moral retribution here on earth, than we had 
ever imagined, and how unfounded have been our 
accusations of providence for the apparent ine- 
qualities of its distribution. For then will be re- 
vealed the secret worm which has been gnawing 
for years in many a proud heart ; and the unac- 
knowledged fears which have pursued the wick- 
ed ; and the dismay which, in the hour of danger 
and of death, has overwhelmed many a secret sin- 
ner, will now betray itself to the observer. 

Then will be revealed the many vexations which 
men have made for themselves by their evil and 
dissocial humours ; the secret stings of impotent 
resentment, the long concealed gnawings of envy, 
the mortifications of vanity, and the wastings of 
discontent ; the distressing doubts of many a pro- 
found philosopher and boasting freethinker, and 



$2 SERMON TV. 

the secret mournings of many an awakened con- 
science. Then will be shown the long roll of do- 
mestic vexations, the fruits of evil humour, the 
secret sorrows of parents, the sleepless nights of 
those, who, with narrow means, have many to pro- 
vide for, and the still more painful watchings of 
those who have had the care of great estates. 
Then will be revealed the unacknowledged pangs 
of jealousy, of hopeless love, the stings of false- 
hood, 

( And hard unkindness' altered eye 
That mocks the tear it forced to flow,' 

the spectres which have haunted the sleep of the 
weak, and the steps of the guilty ; and last of all, 
the horrors which many, whom the world has en- 
vied, have met, when they entered on the valley 
of the shadow of death. 

Then, too, will be revealed innumerable purpo- 
ses which have been formed, and left unexecuted. 
Then shall we know the plan of life which the 
young man, cut off in the midst of his days, had 
drawn for himself ; the dreams of the speculator ; 
the visions of the scholar ; the hopes of parents 
for their children ; and the aspirations of those 
who had just begun to take a part in the conten- 
tions of the times. Then will be known how 
much evil has been intended, which accident has 
frustrated, how much good has been promised, of 
which the promise was forgotten, how much 
amendment resolved upon, but defeated by delay. 



Future judgment. 63 

What a pitiable spectacle then will be presented 
of half honest confessions, unexecuted resolutions, 
and of sins almost forsaken ! What a scene will 
open upon the recollection of every one of us, of 
expectations never answered, wishes never ac- 
knowledged, pursuits never fully approved, or 
faintly followed ; and progress always intended, 
but never made. 

But will all the disclosures of that tremendous 
day be of this painful, and melancholy character ? 
I hope not, my hearers ! When this assembly shall 
stand before the tribunal of omniscient retribution, 
I hope we shall find there revealed some good 
deeds, and some good intentions, which were not 
before known, and which God will confirm by the 
records of his book of life. Let us hope that 
many a character will then be cleared up, which 
is now clouded by the suspicions of a censorious 
world, and that many will awake and shake them- 
selves from the dust, and put on their beautiful 
garments, because their warfare is accomplished, 
and their time of redemption is come. Then it 
shall be known with what patience and humility 
many followers of our master have waited for this 
day ; and the secret alms, the drops of water 
given to the parched lips of the sufferer, the secret 
prayers put up for others, the secret sorrows of 
the righteous for those vices and miseries they 
could not prevent, in short, all that humble virtue 
which was hardly known to the virtuous himself, 
will then be revealed, not to magnify the authors, 



64 SERMON IV. 

but to vindicate the equitable providence of God, 
who is the eternal patron of truth and righteous- 
ness. 

It is also one of the affecting circumstances of 
this scene of retribution, that the Lord Jesus 
Christ will remember what his friends and disciples 
will have forgotten ; they will be insensible, or 
rather surprised at the deeds of which he reminds 
them, and say, ' when saw we thee an hungered 
and fed thee, or thirsty, and gave thee drink, or 
naked, and clothed thee, or sick and in prison, and 
came unto thee ? Then shall the judge say unto 
them, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto 
me.' What a scene of recompense is this ! Can 
we hope, my hearers, that we shall then be re- 
minded of good deeds forgotten, and informed of 
virtues which we never suspected in ourselves ? 
6 Whosoever shall humble himself as a little child, 
the same shall be greatest in the kingdom of 
Heaven.' 

Seeing then we know that there is such a day 
approaching, what manner of persons ought we 
to be, in all holy conversation and godliness. 
Surely it ought above all things to encourage us 
in that virtue without which no other can exist, 
that great virtue of sincerity ! What man can 
quietly allow himself in falsehood or equivocation, 
who knows that his idle words are now recorded, 
and will be remembered to his confusion ; that his 
false promises will be proclaimed before the as- 



FUTURE JUDGMENT. £5 

sembled universe, and all the treachery of his 
social intercourse laid bare. What a motive is it 
to the utmost simplicity and ingenuousness of 
character, that God is not for a moment deceived 
by that equivocation, which marks the conduct of 
many men who have their points to gain, but who 
are not otherwise absolutely corrupt. 

Again. The thought of a judgment to come 
ought to be a restraint upon every excess of sen- 
suality, every tendency to profligacy. Look up, 
O sinner, in the heat of thy passion, when the 
sound of mirth has lulled, and the tide of pleasure 
begun to ebb, for thou hast known such moments, 
look up, and see the writing on the wall, i This night 
thy soul shall be required of thee ; and then whose 
shall these things be ? ' And where shalt thou be ? 
Wilt thou go and present thyself in the robes of thy 
guilt before the tribunal of thy God ? 

Let the thought of this scene of final trial lessen 
our pride and vanity ; for, at that bar, men will 
appear as they are, and not as we have thought 
them to be. What then ? Will the petty distinc- 
tions of which we are so ambitious, the beauty, 
the fine form, the grace of action, the wealth, the 
splendour, the whole apparatus of human vanity 
disappear, and leave not a fragment for our com- 
placent regard to fix upon in that great day ? What 
is it then, my hearers, that so many of us are con- 
tending for, praying, sinning, living, and dying for? 
'The fashion of this world passeth away.' 



66 SERMON IV. 

The thought of this day, when the secret sor- 
rows of so many hearts will be revealed, should 
guard us against all uncharitableness ; for with 
what judgment we judge shall we be judged, and 
with what measure we mete shall it be measured 
to us again. Where is the man who would not 
shrink to have his own heart laid bare, before the 
very meanest creature whom he has regarded un- 
charitably ? My friends, in that day we shall in- 
deed stand in need of favour ; we shall not disdain 
the complacent regard of the most humble of our 
fellow creatures. 

If these considerations teach us charity, how 
much more should they teach us forgiveness ! 
Have we ever thought how much we have to be 
forgiven ; and can we, with a debt of a thousand 
talents unpaid, oppress a poor creature who has 
besought us to have patience with him till he could 
discharge his hundred pence ? 

Lastly. The belief of this judgment to come 
should not only fortify our minds against unjust 
accusations, and unexpected misfortunes, but it 
should also inspire us with the utmost submission 
and contentment under the changing and unequal 
circumstances of the present life. Especially let 
those take comfort whose fond hopes in others 
have been blasted. This maze of events, so dark 
and unaccountable to human apprehension, will 
then be cleared up to the eye of faith and piety. 
Meanwhile, let us not be deceived ; God is not 
mocked ; that which every man soweth here he 



FUTURE JUDGMENT. 67 

shall reap hereafter. Though the righteous be 
prevented by death, yet shall he be at rest, and 
the sinner though an hundred years old, shall be 
condemned. Be not governed by present ap- 
pearances ; judge nothing before the time ; wait 
the issue of this scene of probation ; for it is ap- 
pointed unto all men once to die, and, after death, 
the judgment. 



SERMON V 



THE FUTURE STATE OF THE JUST. 
1 Corinthians, XIII. 10. 



WHEN THAT WHICH IS PERFECT IS COME, THAT WHICH IS IN PART 
SHALL BE DONE AWAY. 



The contemplation of the life to come, is the 
frequent employment of every Christian whose 
faith in the gospel is firm and practical. The dis- 
cipline of Christianity is rendered effectual by 
presenting to us motives drawn from another life, 
adapted to overcome the temptations, and to sup- 
port the trials of the present. 

A subject, then, which must naturally present 
itself so often to the minds of the Christian, ought 
to be as distinctly and justly comprehended as 
the information of scripture, and the suggestions 
of reason will allow. It was no doubt intended 
by the Author of our salvation, to leave his follow- 
ers the most satisfactory assurance of a future life ; 
but he has furnished us with no more definite ideas 
of the nature and mode of that life, than are ne- 
cessary for the practical influence of the general 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 69 

truth. Still it is permitted us, to put together the 
scattered intimations contained in scripture, and 
compare them with the suggestions of reason and 
the analogies to which we can have access, and 
thus to form some faint notions of the future world. 
Though the remarks, which will now be offered to 
you, may fall short of the indistinct and exalted 
conceptions you may have formed of the future 
state of existence, they will not, I hope, be thought 
contradictory to the most obvious meaning of the 
scripture language, which is highly figurative, or 
to the suggestions of the soundest reason. 

It is indeed impossible for us to conceive of a 
future life, except according to the ideas which 
we have derived from our present condition, or to 
express them in any other words than such as con- 
vey sensible images. My object in this discourse 
will be, not so much to give definite conceptions 
of scenes which we can know only after our de- 
parture from these, as to guard against some er- 
roneous imaginations which may render our belief 
in a future existence less efficacious than it ought 
to be. 

In the first place, then, wherever we may exist 
hereafter, we shall not cease to be men. Our hu- 
man nature will not be changed into the angelic, 
nor shall we constitute a different order of beings. 
It is true our Lord has said, that they who are 
worthy to attain that world, neither marry nor are 
given in marriage, but are as the angels of light. 
This change, however, in our condition, results, 



70 SERMON V. 

as we may well suppose, from our freedom from 
these material bodies ; and the language of our 
Saviour is rather a precaution against the sensual 
fancies of those who would transfer to heaven the 
delights of a terrestrial paradise, than any speci- 
fic description of the future world. We shall not, 
however, be transformed into a superior order of 
spirits, as angels are imagined to be ; for if this 
were to be the case, there would be no propriety 
in saying that we should be like them. 

What then ! are not all our imperfections to be 
removed ? Are we to continue to be frail, limited, 
finite creatures ? Must we still be men ? I hope 
there is no presumption in replying, that we must. 
For is man, the work of God, the image of the su- 
preme intellect, so poor and worthless a creature 
that his nature is not worthy of being continued ? 
Let us learn to think more worthily of our desti- 
nation. If man has been granted so exalted a 
place in the infinite works of the Creator, he is no 
doubt worthy of being continued in that exalted 
station. We find nothing in what we are allowed 
to observe in the works of God, which indicates 
that any chasm is to be left in the scale of being, 
by the transformation of one rank into another. 
The plan of God appears to be the progressive im- 
provement of the individuals of a species, not the 
gratification of that vain ambition by which ' men 
would be angels, angels would be gods.' 

Not only may we conclude that our human na- 
ture will be preserved, but that every individual 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 7 1 

also, will retain his own individual nature, or that 
which distinguishes him from every other person. 
Every man has his peculiar capacity, or disposi- 
tion, which he brought with him into the world, or 
which he has acquired by diligent cultivation, and 
we have no reason to imagine that these discrim- 
inating properties of his character are to be abol- 
ished by the dissolution of his body. In the future 
world, as in the present, an harmonious whole will 
no doubt be composed by every one's filling his 
proper place ; by every description of mind find- 
ing its proper rank, employment, and happiness ; 
but we have reason to expect a far more perfect 
state than the present, because composed of bet- 
ter spirits. There, no doubt, as well as here, the 
degrees of happiness will be as various as the di- 
versities of attainments in knowledge and virtue. 
It will be enough to secure the perfection of that 
state, that every one may strive for higher degrees 
of virtue and happiness without envy; enjoy what 
is peculiar to himself, and proceed towards the 
highest points of human perfection, without in- 
terruption from the cares, the passions, and the 
sorrows of this life. 

But there will also be an intimate connexion 
between the future life, and the present. The 
future will in fact be the continuation of the pre- 
sent. It will be the further evolution of the ener- 
gies of this ; the fruit of what is now sown ; the 
maturity of what is now just appearing ; the con- 
summation of what is now imperfect. 



72 ■ SERMON V. 

It is of the utmost importance that we should 
keep in view the close and indissoluble connexion 
of these two stages of our existence. It is this 
alone which gives any rational efficacy to the 
grand doctrine drawn from our immortality, that 
anything done here by us, has a bearing upon fu- 
turity. It would be of no moral consequence to 
tell mankind, that they would be hereafter newly 
created, to enter another course of being, which 
had no reference to the present, and was in no 
degree dependent on it. No ! the solemnity, the 
unspeakable efficacy of the doctrine of a future 
life, results from this ; that the two existences are 
so intimately and inseparably joined, that the one 
determines the other. Death is but the lifting up 
of the curtain which divides them, and the most 
trilling action or neglect has the same influence 
upon the character and condition of man after 
death, that it has in this life. 

How truly interesting is this thought ! If no man 
can enter hereafter on any joys for which he has 
no taste, or employments for which he is not here 
qualified ; if the change, in fact, into another life, 
furnishes us with nothing which we do not carry 
out of this, gives us no merits which we do not 
now possess, and supplies none of our wilful neg- 
lects or losses, but God strictly renders to every 
man according to his deeds, can I utter a truth 
more alarming to the slothful, the insensible, or 
the hardened sinner ? And this it is, my friends, 
which gives such dignity and sublimity to the vir- 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 73 

tue of a Christian, that he is thinking and acting 
for eternity ; not for a posthumous applause in the 
mouths of a perishable race of mortal men, but 
for the eternal existence, on which he will person- 
ally enter, and for the approbation of that Being, 
who is from everlasting to everlasting. 

What has now been said of the intimate con- 
nexion of these two states of existence, and the 
fact that it will be the same unaltered nature 
which is to exist here and hereafter, is illustrated 
and confirmed by the christian doctrine of a re- 
surrection. The language of scripture leads us to 
expect that a spiritual body will succeed to the 
present animal structure. This surely would not 
be provided, if it were not absolutely essential to 
the nature and continued personality of man, that 
he should have some kind of organization. If so, 
then we may suppose that hereafter we shall con- 
tinue to receive ideas, to exercise memory, and to 
perform other mental acts, by some organs to sup- 
ply the place of the present, however more they 
may be refined, or more exquisitely developed 
than the present. 

I should not venture to introduce such remarks 
as these, so evidently beyond a living man's obser- 
vation, if we were not in some measure counte- 
nanced by the language of St Paul in that remark- 
able chapter of Corinthians, where the apostle 
has so repeatedly spoken of the spiritual body 
which is to succeed this corruptible frame, and 
even illustrated it by a comparison which is full of 
10 



74 SERMON V. 

significancy. 'But some will say, how can the 
dead rise, and with what body will they come ? 
Knowest thou not, that which thou sowest is not 
quickened except it die ? What is it that dies ? 
Is it not the covering of the grain, while the germ 
subsists, unfolds, and fructifies ? ' 

Again ; we have every reason to believe that 
the next life will be, like the present, progressive ; 
and not only so, but that the degree of knowledge 
and virtue which we have here attained, will be 
the point from which we begin our progress here- 
after, and determine the place we shall there oc- 
cupy. The successive moments of our terrestrial 
existence have been indissolubly connected one 
with the other. Everything in the works of God 
proceeds by regular progress and gradation. 
Death breaks not the chain, but is only the link, 
connecting the present and the future life. The 
degree of virtue acquired here, then, by any indi- 
vidual, will determine the degree of happiness or 
glory to be enjoyed hereafter. The language of 
revelation expressly establishes this opinion of the 
diversities and degrees of future happiness and 
glory. l To whom much is given, of him much 
will be required ; and to him who hath here, will 
be given hereafter.' ' God will reward every man 
according to his works.' Hear the language of 
the Apostle. ' There is one glory of the sun, 
and another glory of the moon, and another glory 
of the stars ; for one star differeth from another 
star in glory. So also will it be at the resurection 
of the dead.' 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 75 

And not only will the happiness of the future 
world be enjoyed in innumerable stages and de- 
grees, but the progress from this point will be per- 
petual, and infinite. One degree of excellence 
leads of itself to another ; and as the distance be- 
tween created beings, and the uncreated God, be- 
tween finite and infinite, is essentially and necessa- 
rily infinite, so may we be continually tending to- 
wards supreme perfection without ever reaching 
it. Is not this more rational, than that the perfec- 
tion of which we are ultimately capable should 
burst upon us at once ? We are led to the most 
unpleasant foreboding, from the appearance of pre- 
mature capacity on earth; we look upon it as 
something which violates the order and beauty of 
God's arrangement; and shall we imagine that 
heaven will be less harmonious than earth, or 
that the orderly progress towards perfection will 
be disturbed by the intervention of death ? 

Many pious and philosophical minds have in- 
dulged themselves in imagining the progress of 
the renovated man through the future stages of 
existence. With the whole universe before them, 
they have followed the emancipated spirit in 
boundless excursions from planet to planet, sun to 
sun, and system to system, through the immensity 
of space. These contemplations are not to be 
hastily condemned. They serve to raise the soul 
above the petty and contracting cares of the pres- 
ent life, and to make us feel more of the sublim- 
ity and grandeur of the expectations which Chris- 



76 SERMON V. 

tianity awakens. The future state of the just, we 
have every reason to believe, will be a state of great 
activity, and constant advancement in knowledge. 
But let us not confine our notions of our progress 
in another life, to the mere enlargement of our 
knowledge. We may hope that we shall there 
find goodness more in honor than knowledge, or 
rather, that the one will be made inseparable from 
the other. If we may venture to speak of those 
pursuits, which will be most interesting hereafter 
to virtuous and pious minds, they will not be the 
natural history of other worlds, or the astronomy 
of other systems, so much as the knowledge 
which will be communicated to us of the history 
of God's providence ; the reasons of many of 
those events which have now perplexed our phi- 
losophy, and eluded our search ; the light which 
will be thrown upon God's moral government 
of the world. How interesting, too, will be the 
mere knowledge of ourselves, of our past pro- 
gress, of the causes which have interrupted, the 
trials, the privations, and the calamities, which 
have contributed so mysteriously to the formation 
of our present character. The study of man, in- 
deed, in connexion with God, will be enough for 
a long life hereafter, and the knowledge of himself 
the most fruitful of interest to every individual. 
« Now we see through a glass darkly.' This world 
and our own characters are full of enigmas. ' Then 
we shall know even as we are known,' and it will 
be no small accession of knowledge to know our- 
selves, even as we are known by others. 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 77 

As every consideration leads us to believe that 
the future life will be a social state, therefore love, 
kind affections, and good will, are to constitute 
the real reward, the true felicity of heaven. We 
say that the future state will be a social state. 
Are we not authorized to say this, by that lan- 
guage of scripture, which speaks of the assem- 
blies of just men made perfect, and of the many 
mansions which Jesus has prepared for his follow- 
ers, that where he is they may be also ? Besides, 
if our future happiness, as we before observed, 
is to be the happiness of men, we know of none, 
except that which depends on the mere gratifica- 
tion of the senses, which may not be communicat- 
ed to others, and which is not increased by this 
participation. We are to enter also a state of re- 
tribution, and it is difficult to imagine how that 
retribution can be accomplished, if all the rela- 
tions with those among whom we have lived, giv- 
ing and receiving good or evil, are to be at once 
abolished. It is true, that the social character of 
the future state, does not necessarily suppose that 
former intimacies will be renewed. But if there 
is to be a junction of virtuous persons, it seems 
hardly consistent with all the analogies of nature, 
that those should be unknown to each other, who 
seem best formed for the promotion of each other's 
happiness ; or that, where two minds have been 
subject to the same discipline, formed the same 
habits, and drawn their happiness from the same 
sources, they should, in another state, be cut off 



78 SERMON V. 

from an enjoyment so pure, merely in consequence 
of their transition to another region. 

I know that in consequence of the prodigious 
change effected by the dissolution of these bodies, 
it maybe seriously doubted whether we shall have 
the same visible marks of mutual recognition, 
which now make us known to each other. But 
there are beings, we may hope, who could not 
fail of finding each other again, by those eternal 
and ineffaceable characters of mind and sympa- 
thies of soul, which bound them together here, 
more strongly than all the ties of consanguinity, 
or the strength of long intimacy. 

Here, then, enters the delightful thought of love 
purified, enlarged, and invigorated. Here we 
have a glimpse of self-annihilation, and of that in- 
finite benevolence which now exists only in God. 
It seems indeed that here on earth we feel very 
little love, which is not in some measure support- 
ed by the relation of the object to ourselves as in- 
dividuals. We see and feel ourselves in all that is 
about us. Very wonderful will be the change, 
then, if we can know in all its purity and power 
that affection which is satisfied with the sole plea- 
sure of making others happy. We may even then 
know what it is to love God himself, not as we 
love him here, so feebly, so faintly, so inadequate- 
ly, but supremely and unalterably, without fear, or 
doubt, or error. 

But it is impossible for us to penetrate to the 
extent ofmoral perfection which maybe attained, 
when the senses shall no longer degrade our af- 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 79 

fections, nor the imagination corrupt our hearts ; 
when the consciousness of the divine approbation, 
unmingled and undisturbed, shall fill our souls, and 
nothing be wanting to ensure our endless happi- 
ness, but the pure and holy perception of the hap- 
piness of others. 

All these considerations which confirm our ex- 
pectations of a state of social existence, lead us 
to regard the future as an active life. Far be it 
from me to diminish the comfortable hope of that 
rest which remaineth to the people of God ; or to 
deprive the patient, careworn, and exhausted 
Christian of the tranquillizing prospect of repose 
in the presence of his God. But rest is not tor- 
por, nor repose inactivity. Nothing in nature, or 
in scripture, authorized the notion which too 
commonly prevails, that the good will be in a state 
of pure rest, or passive enjoyment, absorbed in the 
contemplation of God, and yielding to impressions 
of pleasure independent of all activity of body or 
mind. This cannot be the heaven which God, the 
eternally active, powerful, and vivifying spirit, has 
provided for creatures made in his image, and 
whose perfection consists in the active imitation 
of his benevolence. Let the thought that we are 
to be continually employed, and employed in the 
diffusion of that good at which God aims, enter 
into our anticipations of futurity. All there will 
be exercise ; exercise of our faculties in the acqui- 
sition of knowledge, of our affections in the love 
of God's creatures, of our powers in the commu- 
nication of his benefits. We are here most hap- 



80 SERMON VI. 

py when most employed, and can opportunities or 
objects, or means, or inclination be hereafter 
wanting in the immense range of God's creation ? 

Who then is the man that is fit for heaven ? 
The selfish, solitary, and indolent speculatist ; the 
griping, hoarding, narrow-minded child of earth ; 
the vain, proud, self-important man of conse- 
quence ? No ! the heaven which we describe can 
be no place for them. The proper candidates for 
heaven, are the men who diligently fulfil the du- 
ties of their station ; who live most for others, 
and with unremitted and unwearied care, exert 
their talents in laboring to correct their own dis- 
positions, and to promote the good of others. 

There is another circumstance in the future 
life of the Christian, which it would be inexcusa- 
ble to omit, and that is, the presence of Christ. 
He has gone to prepare a place for his follow- 
ers, that where he is they may be also. It is on 
these promises that the Christian's hope has been 
supported. « Father, I will that they also, whom 
thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that 
they may behold my glory which thou hast given 
me.' What though all his other expectations of 
the specific nature or employments of his future 
condition should be false, yet it is enough for the 
Christian to know, that hereafter Christ will be his 
companion, and his friend. Beloved, now are 
we the sons of God; if children, then heirs of 
God, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ. 



ON THE FUTURE LIFE. 81 

Who then are to be partakers of this life to 
come ? The world is full of rational beings, capa- 
ble of forming the conception and cherishing the 
hope of such an existence. But can we expect 
to find hereafter, in a more exalted state, all the 
degraded creatures who live now on the mercy 
and forbearance of God ? Neither scripture nor 
reason will allow this hope. There are those who 
will sleep in the dust of the earth, and awake to 
everlasting contempt. The society of heaven can- 
not be composed, like the present, of the foolish 
and the wise, the virtuous and the profligate, the 
worthless and the excellent. Into the world we 
have been describing entereth nothing that defil- 
eth or that maketh a lie. ' And 1 heard a voice 
out of heaven saying, It is done. I am alpha and 
omega, the beginning and' the end. He that over- 
cometh, shall inherit all things ; and I will be his 
God, and he shall be my son. But the fearful, and 
unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, 
and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, 
and all liars, shall have their part in the second 
death.' 

How glorious are the prospects opened to the 
eye of faith and virtue ! Separated from the 
wicked, to dwell only with the wise and virtuous, 
to act with them, to learn with them, and to wor- 
ship with them the everlasting Father ; to be oc- 
cupied forever in the general good of God's crea- 
tures, and to proceed from good to better, from 
glory to glory. 
11 



SERMON VI 



SPIRITUAL NATURE OF THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST. 
John, XVIII. 36. 

JESUS ANSWERED ; MY KINGDOM IS NOT OF THIS WORLD. 

When our Saviour was brought before Pilate, 
and maliciously charged by the Jews with affecting 
regal power, Pilate asks, < Art thou the King of the 
Jews,' and receives the reply in the text. 

In the opinion of the Roman judge it appears 
to have been explicit and satisfactory ; for he went 
out without delay to our Saviour's accusers, to 
protest a second time that he found no fault in 
him. This reply, which, at the time, seems to 
have produced in the mind of Pilate a conviction 
of the innocence of our Saviour's designs, and of 
the intellectual nature of that influence and au- 
thority which he had endeavoured to establish, 
stands yet on record, to refute those idle accusa- 
tions of disingenuous men, by which they have 
represented the religion of Jesus as a contrivance 
of ambitious imposters, and the spiritual engine of 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 83 

political power. It stands yet on record, to re- 
proach the weakness of Pilate, who, after such a 
declaration, could yield up the Son of God as a 
dangerous and seditious enemy of Caesar, and 
also as a reproach to the pride and spiritual des- 
potism of many sectaries and princes in the histo- 
ry of the church. It stands yet on record, to en- 
courage and console the real church of Christ in 
times of affliction, persecution, apostasy, and de- 
cay ; for, whether our religion enjoy the favor, or 
endure the hostility of the civil powers ; whether 
the kingdoms which call themselves christian are 
swept away, or extended ; whether this globe it- 
self endure or vanish from the systems of the 
world, the Prince of Peace is not dethroned, nor 
his holy dominion destroyed, nor his realm invad- 
ed, nor the peace and privileges of his subjects 
disturbed. 

Every religion, which the world, before the com- 
ing of Christ, had known, was more or less incor- 
porated with established governments. The sys- 
tem of Paganism was altogether civil ; the augurs 
could suspend any proceeding of state, and at last, 
the character of priest was invariably united with 
that of emperor. The religion of Moses, too, was 
intimately incorporated with his civil polity, and 
however the circumcision of the heart only might 
be recommended by a christian apostle, no one 
could ever belong to the Jewish nation, who did 
not first, by this outward rite of religious initiation 
belong to the Jewish church. 



84 SERMON VI. 

But, the religion of Jesus, thanks be to God ! 
was linked with the fortunes of no nation, and 
wrought into the forms of no government. It in- 
terferes with none of the distinctions of political 
society. It is a religion circumscribed by no nat- 
ural boundaries, suited to every climate, country, 
and state of improvement, and adapted to all the 
ages of the world. It has no peculiar exemptions, 
nor peculiar privileges for any sex, age, or order 
of society. In one word, it was designed to be 
universal and immortal. It has its rudiments only 
in this world, but its perfection hereafter. The 
subjects of Christ's kingdom here, are a small and 
distant colony of a mighty empire, placed where 
their loyalty is in a state of perpetual probation, 
to be transplanted successively to the parent coun- 
try, and to dwell under the more immediate influ- 
ence of the Prince of Peace, in heaven, the seat of 
his immediate presence. 

Jesus, in his reply to Pilate, who had asked him 
whether he were a king, adds, in confirmation of 
the unwarlike nature of the kingdom which he 
came to establish, ' If my kingdom were of this 
world, my servants would have fought, they would 
not have permitted me to be delivered up to the 
Jews. 5 Our Saviour does not offer this as the 
only, nor the strongest proof of the spiritual nature 
of his government, but as one which was evident- 
ly suggested by his actual circumstances. 

Our Saviour's meaning in the words of our text 
undoubtedly was, that he was indeed a king, but 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 85 

that the sway he should exercise, would be mark- 
ed by none of the insignia of temporal power, that 
it would consist in the spiritual influence of his 
gospel, and the acknowledgment of his authority 
in the hearts of all his faithful followers, through a 
long succession of ages ; that this world was not 
the limit of his reign, but that his kingdom 
would be continued and consummated hereafter. 

It shall be our present object to show you how 
little the kingdom of Christ resembles, and how 
little it is connected with the kingdoms of the 
world, in its origin, its establishment, its nature, 
and its duration. 

I. First, then, in its origin. We discern in real- 
ity what was so often absurdly claimed by the 
founders of states, we discern a celestial origin. 
With what retired and peaceful auguries is it ush- 
ered in ! In that day when the Lord of hosts be- 
gan to set up a kingdom which should never be 
destroyed, the world, we are told, was reposing in 
universal peace. This spiritual kingdom is intro- 
duced, and the states and empires of the earth are 
undisturbed. In an humble village of Judea, an 
inconsiderable province of the empire, angels, in 
the stillness of the midnight air, announce to 
shepherds the birth of the Prince of Peace, by the 
song of peace and good will to men. At the age 
of thirty years, this Son of God enters publicly, 
but quietly, and without ostentation, on the busi- 
ness of his mission. At first he is employed in 
teaching humility to a few ambitious disciples ; he 



86 SERMON VI. 

is employed in establishing the influence of the 
most unaspiring religion in hearts the most ad- 
verse to its reception ; and thus, my friends, is 
God's minister employed upon earth, during a la- 
borious life. We observe in Jesus no solicitude 
to swell the number of his adherents by flattering 
promises, and no care to retain those, who, from 
admiration or curiosity, called themselves his dis- 
ciples. A ruler comes and falls down before him, 
professing himself his follower. Our Saviour, in- 
stead of eagerly embracing him as a valuable 
acquisition to his cause, proposes a severe test of 
his sincerity. ' Sell all that thou hast, and give it 
to the poor, and then come and follow me. 5 The 
disappointed ruler departs in sorrow, for, says the 
evangelist, he had great possessions. These, 
however, to a teacher of worldly views, would 
have been his highest recommendation. 

II. Let us in the second place endeavour to 
trace the establishment of this kingdom in the 
world after the death of its founder. You will 
naturally ask what provision is made for its con- 
tinuance and extension? Without doubt the 
world would previously suppose that Jesus, like 
Mahomet, had appointed his successors, given 
them minute political instructions, and assigned to 
them their different departments. Perhaps he had 
directed them to retire, as they did from Jerusa- 
lem, to avoid the gathering storm, to collect in si- 
lence their scattered adherents, to wait in secret 
the increase of their numbers, and their strength, 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 37 

and to return in due time to avenge the murder of 
their master, and to plant the cross on the ruins of 
the temple. Not a word of all this. Their Lord 
is crucified, and the disciples are dispersed. The 
interests of this desperate cause are left, my 
friends, to the efforts of the men who had fled in 
panic from Jerusalem. They are left to the un- 
tutored eloquence of Peter, that timid disciple 
who had denied his Master ; to the persuasive and 
affectionate simplicity of the young John ; to the 
fortitude, the zeal, the learning of Paul, who was 
now perhaps sitting at the feet of Gamaliel, smiling 
at the unsuccessful ministry of Jesus. And yet 
these are the means by which the kingdom that is 
not of this world is to be extended. These are 
the peaceful arms which are to beat down the 
strong holds of vice, and spread the triumphs of 
the cross, and vanquish the lusts and passions and 
prejudices of an enlightened age. 

Observe the circumstances which attended the 
progress of this kingdom, and you will see that 
it neither interfered, nor was connected with the 
kingdoms of the world. It threatens not the es- 
tablished power of a single subordinate officer, 
throughout the Roman empire. It proposes no 
change in men's civil relations. It may coexist 
with any form of government, and any station of 
society. The kingdom of heaven is capacious 
enough to include the slave chained to his task, 
and the emperor seated on his throne. It re- 
quires not the former to break his fetters, nor the 



}]3 SERMON VI. 

latter to cast away his crown. While it was win- 
ning its way through the wide extent of the Ro- 
man empire, though the workmen who made 
silver shrines for Diana might have had some 
cause for their clamor, Csssar himself had no 
reason to be alarmed, and no excuse to persecute. 
Into this kingdom enters Onesimus the servant of 
Philemon, and into this kingdom how gladly would 
have been received the king Agrippa, almost per- 
suaded to be a Christian ! Upon this subject of 
the interference of Christianity with men's civil 
relations, we need only quote the words of the 
apostle. ' Is any man called being circumcised, 
let him not become uncircumcised. Circumcis- 
ion is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, sla- 
very is nothing, and freedom is nothing, but the 
keeping the commandments of God. 5 

Further ; as the kingdom of Christ, in its es- 
tablishment, gave no offence to the reigning pow- 
ers, so it received support from none, while it 
gave support to all. While it was making men fit 
to leave the world, it fitted them also to live 
peaceably in it, and a good subject of Christ was 
also a good subject of any government on earth. 
It asked only for tolerance, and it gave peace in 
return. Yet it encountered the most cruel opposi- 
tion. Even the benevolent and enlightened Tra- 
jan could persecute and burn a Christian without 
remorse. And what think you, my friends, would 
have been the fate of a temporal power, attempt- 
ing to establish itself at such a moment in the cen- 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 89 

tre of the Roman empire ? Nay> what think 
you would have been the fate of Christianity it- 
self, if it had then consisted, like the religion of 
many of its professors at the present day, in its 
public institutions, in the number of its churches, 
in the reception of the sacrament, in the baptism 
of children, in the hearing of sermons, and in the 
peace and splendor and quiet of a church? 
Thank God, there were subjects of Jesus then 
existing, to whom the honor and love of their Mas- 
ter were dearer than life. Thank God, there were 
hearts beating with the influence of the gospel, 
though its rites were secret, and its assemblies 
small and despised. Hence, when the temples of 
Christ were burning, the sanctuary in the heart 
was untouched ; when his professors were led to 
the stake, his subjects were multiplied, and Chris- 
tianity flourished, though its rites were suppressed, 
and trodden under the foot of power. 

But, my friends, this picture of poverty and per- 
secution is soon to be reversed. This kingdom, 
which was not of the world, is soon to be united 
in its forms to the kingdoms of the civil world. 
Its professors rise to dignities in the empire ; the 
emperor himself adopts it to strengthen his throne ; 
the ministers of the gospel aspire to worldly do- 
minion, and endeavour thus to extend, by the 
same victory, the borders of the empire and the 
limits of the church. All is security and wealth, 
and pomp and power without. The empire is 
christianized, but yet Christ has hardly gained a 
12 



90 SERMON VI. 

subject. Amid all this splendor, the meek spirit 
of the gospel is lost and overwhelmed ; and after 
this professed union of the religion of Jesus with 
the establishments of the world, corruptions, di- 
visions, superstition, and ecclesiastical dominion, 
more to be dreaded than the hordes of northern 
barbarians which overswept the empire, desolat- 
ed the church ; and they have transmitted their 
deadly influence to these remote ages. Truly, if 
this work had not been originally of God, it would 
long since have been destroyed by the very en- 
couragement its profession has received. 

We have thus seen that our Lord's kingdom 
was not of the world in its origin ; that it sought 
no aid from the world in its establishment ; that it 
interfered not with the kingdoms of the world in 
its extension, and that it receives no real support 
from a union with the powers of the world, in its 
interests. 

III. Consider, in the third place, the subjects of 
this kingdom, and its spiritual nature will more 
clearly appear. Do not look for them, my friends, 
in that long roll of christian emperors, beginning 
with the reign of Constantine. You may traverse 
the galleries of the imperial palace, and pass 
through the retinue of courtiers, and I fear you 
will hardly meet a disciple of the humble Naza- 
rene. Do not look for them in the pompous 
martyrology of persecuting saints, who swell the 
calendar of the Romish church. I am compelled 
to say, too, that you must not look for them among 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 9 J 

those dignitaries who have lorded it over God's 
heritage, or among those barefooted and bare- 
headed imposters, who have concealed a vain and 
aspiring temper under the cloak of pretended 
mortification. I do not deny that a humble and 
holy spirit may reside under the purple and the 
ermine, while a proud heart may beat under 
haircloth and rags ; yet, to find the subjects of 
Jesus, we must often descend to mean abodes, and 
often penetrate the recesses of domestic life, 
where we most often find the humble, the pure, 
the just and pious, of whom the world has too 
often been unworthy. 

These are they who have passed through great 
tribulation; men who have attained an enviable 
superiority to the pleasures, the pains, the honors, 
the riches, and the poverty which surround them. 
No man can claim the privilege of this govern- 
ment, who has not subdued his passions to the 
authority of Christ. He seeks no doubtful char- 
acters, who wish to be indulged in a partial at- 
tachment, who are ready to give up one vice if 
they may be allowed to retain another, but who 
revolt at the first bribe which the world offers. 
Especially does Christ disclaim those subjects who 
have taken his name because his religion is popu- 
lar, and they hope to reap the advantages which 
may be connected with a profession of his doc- 
trines. The rewards of his kingdom are intel- 
lectual and heavenly. They are not of the world, 
even as Christ was not of the world. The records 



92 SERMON VI. 

of Christianity are humble, and this is an incon- 
ceivable consolation to the follower of Jesus, when 
he mourns over the degeneracy of some and the 
insensibility of others, that millions will appear 
in the rolls of future renown, whose names have 
never been seen in the page of history, and never 
reached the ear of any but the Almighty Judge of 
the secrets of the heart of man. 

It is time to close with a few reflections. If 
such then be the spiritual nature of the kingdom 
of Christ, we infer, 

First, that this kingdom will remain when all 
the states and empires of the world shall have 
passed down the stream of time, far out of the 
reach of human recollection. How has the map 
of the world been changed since the introduction 
of the religion of Jesus ! There is not one of its 
old divisions to be traced. Where now is that 
cruel Jewish Sanhedrim which crucified the Lord 
of Life ? Where is that proud Hebrew common- 
wealth, which saw with such malice the rising 
kingdom, and strove in vain to crush the infant 
church ? Nay, where now is that famous Roman 
empire, composed of so many mighty nations, in 
the midst of which Christianity sprung up, like a 
tender shoot in a forest of lofty and aged trees, 
which have since decayed and fallen around it, 
and left it tall, spreading, and vigorous ? Where 
now is that long train of persecuting emperors, 
who wasted their resources in exterminating the 
humble subjects of this kingdom ? And not only so, 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 93 

where now are the empires, with which it was 
incorporated, and which lent it their support? 
They have fallen. But Christianity has not fallen. 
Fear not, then, little flock, it is your Father's good 
pleasure to give you a kingdom, which cannot be 
destroyed. 

Again ; we may infer from this subject what the 
religion of Christ truly consists in. You who un- 
derstand by it the assumption of a peculiar name, 
tell us, where was Christianity before its followers 
were called Christians first in Antioch ? Is it the 
entrance upon a peculiar profession ? Where was 
it when it was not permitted to show itself in pub- 
lic ? Does it consist in the reception of the ele- 
ments or in baptism ? There have been periods 
when these rites have been impracticable. Per- 
haps you imagine it to consist in the establishment 
of churches, of public worship, or of an order of 
ministers. Alas ! it is too certain that you may 
have been born and have lived in Christendom ; 
you may have been baptized in infancy, in man- 
hood, or in both ; you may have communicated 
with the purest church on earth ; you may have 
worn the threshold of the sanctuary with your 
footsteps ; you may have borne the vessels of the 
altar, and entered the desk of instruction, without 
having entered the kingdom of Christ. Think 
you the possession of the privileges of the gospel, 
is obedience to the gospel ? or that the being de- 
corated with the insignia of the empire, will give 
you admittance to the everlasting kingdom of our 



94 SERMON IV. 

Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ? No. For when 
once the master of the house hath risen up and 
hath shut the door, though many standing without 
will begin to knock at the door and say, Lord, 
Lord, open unto us, he will answer, I know you 
not, whence ye are. Then will they begin to say, 
We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and 
thou hast taught in our streets. But he will say, 
I tell you again, I know you not, whence ye are. 
Depart from me, ye workers of iniquity. For there 
will come from the east and the west, from|the 
north and from the south, many who will sit at 
the table in the kingdom of God, and behold these 
are cast out. 

Lastly ; we may infer from the spirituality of 
Christ's kingdom, the proper means of extending 
it. On this subject the most dreadful mistakes 
have prevailed in different ages, and among the 
best of men ; mistakes, which, at the present day, 
fill us with astonishment and shame. Nations 
have been christianized, as it has been termed, at 
the point of the sword, and Jesus was supposed to 
have gained a disciple, when a christian prince 
only gained another subject. But though, by the 
grace of God, most of us now understand, that a 
kingdom which is not of this world is not to be 
extended by the force of arms, but only by the 
force of moral motives, and the pacific introduc- 
tion of religious teaching, yet even our zeal is now 
imperfectly directed. Our families, my friends, 
our children, our dependents are our first care. 



CHRIST'S A SPIRITUAL KINGDOM. 95 

I cannot estimate very highly the wisdom or the 
sincerity of that man who promotes missions to 
the ends of the earth, while those who are imme- 
diately under his eye, are ignorant of the first prin- 
ciples of the oracles of God. The first victory 
which the gospel gains should be over our own 
hearts. Till this is achieved, it is weak and absurd 
for us to rejoice in the triumphs of the cross at the 
extremities of the earth. 

My kingdom is not of this world, saith our Sav- 
iour. But are we not of this world ? And when 
we are summoned, as we soon must be, to leave 
it, shall we not feel as if we were quitting in 
exile, a land where all our pleasures and hopes 
have centred ? God grant that we may so un- 
derstand the declaration in the text, that heaven 
may prove our native soil, the abode of our friends, 
our parent country, and an abundant and welcome 
entrance be there administered to us, in the name 
of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ! 



SERMON VII 



MISAPPREHENSIONS AS TO THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 



Romans, XIV. 17- 



THE KINGDOM OF GOD IS NOT MEAT AND DRINK J BUT RIGHTEOUS- 
NESS, AND PEACE, AND JOY IN THE HOLY GHOST. 



In these words are described, with much truth 
and conciseness, the nature and the effect of reli- 
gion. It consists in the practice of righteousness, 
and it is accompanied with a spirit of peace and 
joy, resulting from an habitual confidence in God, 
the author of all moral and religious happiness. 
The last clause, 'joy in the holy spirit,' admits of 
various interpretations. It may signify that satis- 
faction, which the Christians in the apostolic age 
derived from the possession of the extraordinary 
gifts of the spirit; or, it may be opposed here to 
that dissocial disposition, which disturbed the in- 
tercourse between Jew and Gentile, on the sub- 
ject of the use of meats, mentioned in the preced- 
ing verse. It is otherwise rendered, 'joy in a holy 
spirit,' or a pure and benevolent state of the affec- 
tions. But I am willing to understand by it, that 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. 97 

contented and joyful state of mind, which belongs 
to a man of real devotion, who possesses confi- 
dence towards God, and that filial spirit which 
makes duty easy, afflictions light, death harmless, 
futurity promising, and the whole course of the 
christian life cheerful, active, and full of expecta- 
tion. 

The kingdom of God is not meat and drink. It 
does not consist, as those imagined to whom the 
apostle wrote, in abstaining from the use of certain 
kinds of food, nor in the liberty of using them. 
This is only one instance, which stands, however, 
as a specimen of the mistakes, that prevail with 
regard to the general nature of religion ; mistakes, 
which are entirely consistent with the most scru- 
pulous conscience, with the most animated zeal, 
with any form of worship, or any profession of 
doctrine. 

I. The misapprehension of the nature of reli- 
gion itself, will form the subject of the first division 
of this discourse. 

Let it be premised, however, that this is a ques- 
tion entirely different from the inquiry, what are 
the true doctrines of Christianity, or what is fun- 
damental in the belief of every man, who assumes 
the name of Christian. It is true that false no- 
tions of the nature of religion may be grounded 
on the supposition, or supported by the persuasion 
of the truth or importance of particular tenets ; 
but, however closely mistakes in practice, or im- 
perfections of temper may be connected with false 
13 



98 SERMON VII. 

articles of belief, error in our notions of particular 
doctrines, is entirely distinct from our misconcep- 
tion of the nature and design of religion itself. 
This is primary and antecedent, and must be cor- 
rected, not merely by correcting particular tenets, 
but by more comprehensive views of religion in 
general. 

The most exact conceptions may be formed, 
and the most perfect delineations may be made of 
the peculiar doctrines of the gospel, without con- 
veying to a mind which will not reflect, the pe- 
culiar characteristics of a religious spirit. Just 
notions of what religion is, must be collected ra- 
ther from the general spirit of the gospel history, 
and a study of the character of God, and of man 
in his relation to his Maker, than from any precise 
definitions of particular truths. Yet, notwith- 
standing all the variety of opinions existing in the 
christian world, resulting from the ignorance or 
the passions of man, it is a most consoling thought, 
that the doctrines which Christians acknowledge 
in common, are a sufficient foundation for real re- 
ligion, and will effect, with the blessing of God's 
grace, the sanctification and happiness of every 
man, who is previously furnished with just notions 
of the nature of this most precious gift. 

1. Among the mistakes of the nature of religion, 
is one, by which, that is taken for religion which 
may perhaps with greater propriety be termed 
a complete absence, in the character, of every- 
thing essential to religion. This mistake discovers 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. 99 

itself in that way of talking, which makes religion 
consist in good dispositions to virtue, in amiable 
instincts, in a certain decorum and inoffensiveness 
of conduct, which no violent passions interrupt. 
Of this character are most of those Christians, 
who pass in the w T orld unnoted for offences 
against the supposed laws of God and men. It is 
true, such persons are rather denominated good, 
than religious men, because it is too often notori- 
ous to the observer, that the idea of God has hard- 
ly entered their minds, and exerts no influence 
whatever on their amiable dispositions. Such 
men may be said to act from anything, rather than 
from a principle of religion. They are so happy 
as to possess dispositions favorable to virtue, and 
a certain inoffensiveness of character, which is 
agreeable to the selfish indolence of mankind. 
But though a principle of conscience may never 
have governed, nor any intelligent spirit of bene- 
volence have animated their conduct, though they 
have lived without God in the world, and have re- 
ally been free from vice only in consequence of 
the favor of circumstances, they are falsely set 
down as examples of what Christianity is design- 
ed to form. Of religion, if of nothing else, it 
may be said, that it is utterly unknown, where 
there does not exist an habitual reference to God, 
where the affections towards God have never been 
called into exercise, or where there is not a prin- 
ciple of progressive obedience, continually aiming 
at improvement and panting for perfection. It is 



100 SERMON VII. 

true that the term religious is not often vouchsaf- 
ed to such men as have been described ; but they 
are familiarly termed innocent, virtuous, unblama- 
ble. I need not say that those who have formed 
no higher conceptions of religion than these, have 
yet to acquire the very rudiments of christian ex- 
cellence. They have not stepped upon the thresh- 
old of the gospel ; they have not even inquired 
for the avenues to the sanctuary. To them it is 
nothing whether anything is known of God or 
not, or anything of a future destination ; much less 
do they know whether Christ has lived, or died, 
or risen, or left anything of importance to the 
knowlege or well-being of mankind. These men 
live for no purpose, which does not terminate in 
some temporal advantage, or at least, to which 
death may not put an effectual close. 

2. Directly opposite to this negative notion of 
ajeligious character, is the mistake of those who 
make it to consist entirely in services performed 
expressly towards God, as if he had an interest 
distinct from that of his creatures, or required our 
homage, either of conduct or affection, as if it were 
some advantage to himself. It is true that the 
term religion, is originally and properly applicable 
to the duties towards God, in distinction from 
those of social life ; but to imagine that these ser- 
vices are valuable in any other respect, than as 
they tend to promote some further purpose, or to 
imagine that God is not served, except by acts 
that are expressly directed to him, is to confound 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. ]Q1 

altogether the notions of religion with the demands 
of a superior. There is nothing in the religion of 
Christ which demands religious services from men, 
purely for their value in themselves, but to an- 
swer some higher end, either of their improvement 
or comfort. The gospel does not teach us to 
confine our consciences to these religious rites, 
nor does it require us to consider the time which 
is not spent in acts of this kind, as lost or wasted. 
It does not exclude the idea of holiness from 
other actions than those which have God for their 
object, from other thoughts than those into which 
the idea of him enters ; but it makes all good af- 
fections a part of religion, all acts of kindness, 
and indeed, the whole circle of our employments 
and pleasures, when they are wisely directed and 
gratefully enjoyed, a worship of himself. Neither 
does the gospel encourage us to judge of our pro- 
gress in virtue by the number of our merely reli- 
gious acts ; but it estimates the worth of our char- 
acter in all our relations, and especially regards 
the whole bias of the affections towards goodness. 
Such is the language of Jehovah himself. ' To 
what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices 
unto me? saith the Lord.' Isaiah i. 11. In this I 
am by no means for discouraging the most diligent 
use of instrumental duties ; nor would I in any de- 
gree diminish the value of services, which we owe 
directly to God ; for these require in every way to 
be encouraged or awakened. But it is to dispel 
the illusion, which prevails in some minds, that 



102 SERMON VII. 

the value of a man's religion is to be estimated by 
the turn of his mind towards acts of worship, or by 
the time which is employed in them ; and to im- 
press upon you the conviction that our duties to- 
wards God are of no value, unless the effect of 
them is perceived in our affections in general, and 
in the whole conduct of life. 

3. Another mistake of the nature of religion 
is that which makes it only a source of comfort ; 
a cordial to be opened only when the spirit faints. 
It would make Christianity a pure dispensation of 
mercy, provided only to pacify the terrors of con- 
science, or administer comfort to the sick and dy- 
ing. Hence the long delay in attending to a sub- 
ject, which is expected to present itself at last in 
the guise of an angel of mercy, to bear away the 
departing spirit in the arms of love. By those 
who take this view, the minister of religion is con- 
sidered only in the light of a messenger of consola- 
tion to the distressed spirit. He is expected to 
appear at the couch of the dying, though he may 
never have been seen before, provided with every 
balm for the terrified conscience, and with tears of 
sympathy and words of love for the bereaved. 
Religion is thought something which may be 
grasped, when we are compelled to let go our hold 
of life and of everything else which we have val- 
ued ; a last resort, a provision for a moment of des- 
titution or despondency ; in short, a dispensation 
of unmingled as well as unmerited grace. To cor- 
rect this most dangerous misapprehension, it is suf- 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. 103 

ficient, perhaps, only to have stated it ; and I trust 
you will never indulge the idea that you may, in 
the last extremity, adopt that as a medicine, which 
you have never used as a daily nutriment, or that 
it is provided as an opiate for your last agonies, in- 
stead of being the food of the soul, on which it 
must have been nourished to everlasting life. 

4. Perhaps I have already anticipated the 
misconceptions of those, who seem to regard 
religion as a business separate from the usual 
occupations of life ; who imagine that, in order 
to practise it with propriety, peculiar circumstan- 
ces are necessary, and that peculiar situations must 
present themselves. Thus, one man is said to 
have time for religion, another is said to have 
been brought up to it ; and it is thought that some- 
thing like disgust towards the usual condition of 
life, must be excited, before religion can be attend- 
ed to with any earnestness or pleasure. 

That man has unquestionably a mistaken notion 
of religion who supposes it to be impracticable in 
any lawful condition of life. It must first be the 
rule, before it can be the business ; and when it is 
sufficiently understood, it will only regulate, and 
by no means banish our customary occupations. 
It may be superadded to, or associated with all the 
varieties of an innocent and useful life, limiting, 
controlling, inspiring, and purifying the whole 
course of the thoughts, the conversation, and the 
actions. It is this false notion of the separate ex- 
istence, if I may so express it, of the religious 



104 SERMON VII. 

character, that has generated the swarms of un- 
profitable ecclesiastics, mystics, monks, devotees, 
and fanatics in Christendom. It is this mistake, 
which leads the sensual and worldly to say to their 
faithful monitors, in their moments of compunction, 
1 1 look forward to the time when I shall have more 
leisure to attend to the subject. I wish to escape 
from the pressure of my cares, that I may think 
of God, but at present I find no disposition to at- 
tend to the subject.' 

When I say that religion is not a separate em- 
ployment, it is also true, that the Christian walks 
by faith and not by sight ; but he is travelling the 
same road with his neighbours, he must adopt the 
same conveniences, and share in the common ac- 
commodations of the way. The difference be- 
tween the religious man and others, is, that he 
keeps always in view the end of his journey. By 
this, he regulates his time, his repose, his plea- 
sures, his movements, and all the changes of his 
course. The irreligious man, on the contrary, 
imagines himself sent into the world on a mere 
excursion of pleasure. He stops by the way side, 
he riots where he stops, he is impoverished, he is 
ruined. 

5. Another false notion of religion is that, 
which makes it to consist in certain unexplained 
impulses of the mind, or sensations of pleasure in 
particular views of Christianity, which cannot be 
made intelligible to those who have not experienc- 
ed these sensations. 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. ] 05 

This propensity to make religion a spirit which 
is infused into the mind, rather than a healthy 
state of all the affections and the perfection of that 
nature which we receive originally from God, is 
extremely flattering to the vanity of man. It 
establishes at once, a kind of distinction, under- 
stood however only by those who boast of this 
rare faculty. It makes grace a privilege to dis- 
tinguish the possessor, rather than a talent, which 
all men may obtain and improve. It removes all 
the tests of real goodness out of the observation of 
the world, and places the standard in the feelings 
of the person, where it is accessible only by him 
who has the testimony of the spirit within himself. 
It seems to imply that, for the purpose of attaining 
truth, on the subject of religion, a new faculty 
must be created in the mind, the operations of 
which are not to be regulated by the common laws 
of belief, or explained in analogy with the com- 
mon nature of man. 

By these remarks, I am very far from asserting 
that the feelings, sympathies, hopes, and fears of a 
man truly religious, are not very different from 
those of men who have never made it a subject of 
serious reflection, or who have never resolved to 
guide their conduct by its laws. But I mean on- 
ly to assert, that there is nothing extraordinary in 
a religious habit of the mind ; nothing which may 
not be explained by the common laws of the hu- 
man character, by the operation of religious mo- 
tives, and the influence of hope, fear, and love, 
14 



106 SERMON VII. 

when enlightened with a knowledge of our duty, 
and grounded on the simple truths of the gospel. 
Religion must either be recommended by argu- 
ments, which cannot be confuted, or by good ef- 
fects, which cannot be denied. If no further ac- 
count is to be given of it, than that it is a special 
favor vouchsafed to individuals, and that no 
words can describe its operation, all I can say is, 
that it must be left to those who possess it, while 
we endeavour to make the best use we can of our 
common interpretation of the gospel of Christ. 

From what has been said on the subject of sen- 
sation in religion, I beg that it may not be under- 
stood that I am insensible of the importance of 
the affections. I know that without them, we 
shall never find the ways of religion ways of 
pleasantness, and all her paths peace. I would 
only contend against that vanity, or that fanaticism, 
which would make the peculiarities of one man's 
feelings, the test of another's sincerity, or which 
spends itself in exertions to excite a frame of 
mind, which produces little other good to ourselves 
or others, than merely to exhilarate while it lasts. 

I have not dwelt so long upon this species of 
misapprehension of the nature of religion, because 
I think it the error into which you, my hearers, 
are most likely to fall ; but only to guard you 
against the progress of an evil, which, though 
small and secret in its kindlings, may easily rise 
into a conflagration which will burn till it strips 
society of its comfort and its ornament. 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. 107 

And now, my friends, to close this most impor- 
tant division of my discourse, I cannot forbear 
saying, that no mistake of the nature of Chris- 
tianity, which is at the same time accompanied 
with a supreme fear of offending God, or with an 
unaffected love of the well-being of others, is half 
so much to be dreaded and to be lamented, as 
that profound supineness and indifference to reli- 
gion, which sometimes assumes the name and the 
honors of liberality. Any existing form of super- 
stition, any of the common stages of fanaticism, 
is to be preferred to that dead, sensual, worldly 
heart, which has never feared, never thought, and 
never resolved upon the service of God. Rather 
let us suffer all the terrors of superstition, and 
hear the voice of an angry God in every blast 
that rushes by us, or fear his frowns in every soli- 
tude, than live on without God in the world, with- 
out thought of eternity, in luxury, in selfishness, 
in secret sins, with the false and fearful misappre- 
hension, that religion will come at last and offer 
us mercy in our departing hour. Far better would 
it be to spend our lives in the most childish acts 
of superstition, to count our beads and macerate 
our bodies, than that our hearts should be destitute 
of the love of God, or that we should imagine a 
religion may be tolerated by the God of love, in 
which our affections have no share. 

II. I come now to the second part of my dis- 
course, in which I shall attempt to give you some 
notion of the characteristic spirit of Christianity. 



108 SERMON VII. 

The spirit of Christianity is that which is pe- 
culiar and essential to it, and which may exist 
where its forms are impracticable, and where the 
terms of belief are not defined. It is that which 
constitutes a man a Christian always, and every- 
where ; in his church or in his family, in his prayers 
or his pleasures, in the fulness of his strength or 
in the last fainting exercises of his expiring life. 

1. The spirit of our religion is, first, then, a 
spirit of faith. This always has been, and always 
must be the earliest principle of a religious char- 
acter. For it approximates what is remote, it 
illustrates what is obscure, makes us see what is 
invisible, feel what is intellectual, realize as 
present what is actually future, and receive as 
strictly certain, what is in truth only highly proba- 
ble. As the apostle says, it is the substance of 
things hoped for, and the evidence of things un- 
seen and future. The spirit of faith is also a 
spirit of confidence in God, like that of a child in 
the paternal character of a father, or like that of 
a pupil in the superior wisdom and information of 
a master. The Christian feels the highest trust in 
the wisdom of God, and a tranquillizing persua- 
sion of the benevolence of his designs. He an- 
ticipates, with as strong a confidence, the accom- 
plishment of God's purposes in a future life, as he 
expects the events of the next week, or of the 
next morning. Hence all that he enjoys, and all 
that he suffers, he enjoys or suffers with some 
remote or immediate reference to his future ex- 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. \ 09 

istence ; in taking a view of his own life, he can- 
not but include, at every glance, ages beyond the 
tomb. It is the privilege of faith to furnish light 
along this length of being. This is not a spirit of 
credulity, but of trust ; nor of presumption, but 
of tranquil hope ; nor of pride, for it is a persua- 
sion accessible to all ; nor of dogmatism, but of 
legitimate and rational conviction. Deprive man 
of this faith, make it impossible or absurd, and 
our situation is like that of children without a 
protector ; we wander about, away from our Father 
in heaven, to lie down at last in death, with the 
fallen leaves to cover us. 

2. The spirit of Christianity is, secondly, a 
spirit of devotion. God, who compasseth the 
path of his servants is also in all their thoughts. 
The idea of God can never present itself to the 
mind of a real Christian, when he is not prepared 
to entertain it ; therefore it is never unpleasant, 
never oppressive. He sees God in everything ; 
the ordinary, as well as the extraordinary, the 
minute, as well as the vast ; the painful, the pleas- 
ant, the material, the intellectual. To him all 
other objects are secondary ; God is ultimate. 
Therefore, while God lives, he lives within his in- 
fluence, and can lose nothing, he can want noth- 
ing. He cannot look out upon nature without 
carrying his thoughts to its Author ; and all the 
happiness which meets his observation, the activity 
and health of the inferior orders of creatures, even 
the fruitfulness of the soil, the sunshine, the rain, 



HO SERMON VII. 

the seed time, the harvest, remind him of God, as 
we see an absent friend in the place where he sat, 
the books he has read, the lines he has written, 
or the tokens he has left us of his remembrance. 

The world the Christian lives in, is God's ; the 
beings he loves and converses with are God's ; the 
joys he reaps are God's gifts ; the disappoint- 
ments he encounters are God's arrangements ; the 
changes in external nature, in his affections, his 
pleasures, his pains, are to him perpetual indica- 
tions of God's superintending care. 

A devotional spirit gives also a cast of sublimity 
to the most ordinary character. It is this spirit 
which consecrates the habits of a man's mind, and 
lifts him into such a sphere that angels may hold 
converse with him. He takes a station among 
the orders of God's creatures, which earthly and 
sensual men, however dignified by fame or honor, 
may look up to with reverence. The peculiar 
character of christian devotion, unlike all other, 
is filial. The access to God is free. Every em- 
barrassment is removed from the sincere votary, 
and his worship must be frank, filial, simple, and 
reverential. 

3. The spirit of Christianity is, thirdly, a spirit of 
love. I need not here repeat the passages, which 
assure us that he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth 
in God and God in him. If there ever was a 
scheme which had love for its origin, its tendency, 
and its consummation, it is that of the gospel. 
The man who embraces it, shares a benefit with 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. 1 1 1 

millions of individuals, it may be of worlds. It is 
impossible for a man, who is interested in the me- 
diation of the Son of God, ever to feel as if he 
were alone in the world ; for, in his relation to Je- 
sus, he is bound to others by that fine union of 
sentiment, which cannot be felt in the perishing 
connexions of time. 

Christianity binds us so closely to the happiness 
of the universe, that the Christian rejoices continu- 
ally in the prospect of good. He sacrifices, without 
a sigh, innumerable personal accommodations, to 
that comprehensive object of benevolence, the re- 
covery of human nature. He must inevitably 
grow rich himself, as well as enrich others, by eve- 
ry privation to which he submits for the sake of 
those for whom Jesus died. 

He must also find perpetual satisfaction in the 
exercise of christian love, because there is not a 
man on earth who has not some claim to his in- 
terest. In the prospective benevolence of God, 
we are all equally dear. And even now, when 
we find ourselves among innumerable pilgrims, 
travelling to the same grave, wanting the same 
consolations, exposed to the same fearful changes, 
the same heart-rending sorrows, and even the same 
final loss, and at last brought forth by the same 
resurrection to stand before the same Judge, with 
an untried region of life before us ; and when we 
add to this the single word, eternity, even the poor 
embryo, who scarcely may be called an intellect- 
ual being, is to the Christian a precious life. 



112 SERMON VII. 

4. Once more ; the spirit of Christianity is a spirit 
of joy. Not that the tranquillity of a Christian is 
not liable to be disturbed by the pains and suffer- 
ings of human nature, or that he exhibits the in- 
considerate folly of the perpetually riotous and 
gay. But the state of his affections should be 
that of humble and devoted tranquillity. To re- 
joice in the paternal character of a being of whose 
presence you can never be unconscious, to adore 
a being of whose protection you can never des- 
pair, or whose direction of your lot you can never 
suppose to be otherwise than merciful and just, is 
surely all that can be necessary to permanent joy. 

It is the spirit of Christianity to rejoice in the 
present, the past, and the future ; in the present, 
because our joys and sorrows are not at this mo- 
ment ultimate, but means to a future end. What 
we call calamity, or good fortune, in the affairs of 
states, or of individuals, in the eye of a Christian, 
are only footsteps of the revolutions of Providence, 
which are not to be dwelt upon with anxious in- 
terest. He rejoices in the past, because he has 
found in his own experience, that what he dread- 
ed as sufferings, are truly pleasures in retrospec- 
tion, and what he regarded as disappointments, 
proved ' blessings in disguise.' He rejoices in the 
future, because it is God's, and God's only ; and 
as he approaches the period of his own dissolution, 
he finds the western hemisphere lighted up with 
streaks of setting lustre, and he looks forward with 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF RELIGION. \\S 

humble hope, to an eternity of progressive improve- 
ment and happiness. 

My friends, I can extend these remarks no fur- 
ther. Believe me, whatever we may call our- 
selves, whatever, in the hour of occasional reflec- 
tion, we may wish to be, it remains as certain as 
the word of God, he that hath not the spirit of 
Christ is none of his, and the fruit of this spirit 
will always be righteousness, peace, and joy in the 
Holy Ghost. May God correct our errors, in- 
spire our breasts, and teach us to feel the spirit of 
his religion. 



15 



SERMON VIII 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. 
Matthew, XXII. 5. 

BUT THEY MADE LIGHT OF IT, AND WENT THEIR WAY. 

The difference in the circumstances of Chris- 
tians at the present day, and at the introduction 
of the gospel, is truly astonishing. The change 
in the external circumstances of the church, and 
of course in the nature of the temptations to 
which men are exposed upon assuming the chris- 
tian name, merit, my friends, our most serious 
consideration. Then it was a name of unequalled 
reproach. Christians were everywhere at first 
confounded by the pagan world with the Jews, 
among whom the new religion took its rise ; and 
the name of Jew was then synonymous with all 
that was base, odious, and despicable. The situ- 
ation of Christians among the Jews themselves, 
was even less tolerable than among heathens. 
They were regarded as apostates from Moses and 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. H5 

traitors to God. The assemblies of the persecut- 
ed disciples were at first held in secret, often un- 
der ground, and usually in the night. He who had 
the courage to enter this community, renounced, 
by this single act, every worldly prospect, and not 
seldom all the peace and credit of his life. Often 
was the Christian obliged to sever the tenderest 
ties of consanguinity, and, instead of love, to 
meet with hatred ; instead of honor, with re- 
proach ; instead of peace, with persecution ; in- 
stead of consequence, with contempt and obscuri- 
ty. Do you ask, what was sufficient to induce 
them to these sacrifices ? I answer in a word, 
Truth. Do you ask, what they gained in the loss 
of all the world esteemed ? 1 answer, The power 
of God, which passeth all understanding. 

How altered is the condition of the church ! 
The little band of twelve disciples has grown into 
a vast multitude, which no man can number. 
Eighteen centuries have been adding, with in- 
creasing rapidity, to the numbers, the wealth, the 
security, the consequence, the triumphs of the 
christian world. The profession of Christians is 
no longer a badge of an enviable, or a dishonora- 
ble distinction. A name which was once the sig- 
nal of suffering, is now hardly a mark of attention. 
The Christian, like others, accumulates his wealth 
in safety ; like others, he wears his honors thick 
upon him. He mingles with the bustling, the plea- 
surable, and the gay, and no finger of scorn is 



116 SERMON VIII. 

pointed at him. He may be obscure and useless, 
and no one explores his retreat ; he may be fa- 
mous, and no one plots against his elevation. 
Without are no fightings, within are no fears ; and 
the harrassed and humbled Jesus, who had not 
where to lay his head, might, if he were to return 
again to earth, repose every night under the rich 
canopies and lofty ceilings of thousands who bear 
his name, and feast every day at tables where it 
would be necessary to work no miracle to furnish 
food for the guests. All, all is peaceful, except 
the inquietude of ambition, the insatiableness of 
avarice, and the mutual prejudices, and conflict- 
ing interests of the followers of the humble Jesus. 
Whence, then, this mighty transformation ? Can 
it be that a community, which originally grew by 
persecution and contempt, retains its proper char- 
acter, when there is neither reproach nor suffer- 
ing to retard nor to promote it ? Have we now 
nothing to contend with, that is worth resisting ? 
nothing now to fear, that can fill us with anxiety, 
or kindle us with hope ? V/ould to God that the 
dread of religious sloth, the dangers of worldli- 
ness, the temptations to forget our character as 
Christians, were able to bind us as closely together 
as the scorn and cruelty of enemies from without ! 
It may be, that the dreadful days of Nero and 
Dioclesian are not to be recollected with horror. 
It may be, more souls are now perishing in the 
debilitating air of peace, than were lost to God in 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. 1 1 7 

all the tempest of persecution. It may be, that 
we have slumbered till the last blaze has flashed, 
and our lamps have gone out. 

Of all the subjects which engage the attention 
of men, religion is unquestionably the most im- 
portant, because it relates to the soul rather than 
to the body, to God as well as to society, to eter- 
nity as well as to the present world. 

No man has ever thought seriously as he should 
do, on this subject, but it must return to him again 
with more force and frequency, after every new 
contemplation, tending continually to this point, 
to make religion not only the rule, but the busi- 
ness of his life. A man, who believes nothing of 
Christianity, may naturally consider it a subject of 
little importance ; but he who is convinced of its 
truth, because he has thought of it, will not, can- 
not rest at that point. He will consider it incom- 
parably the most important thing in life. It is 
that to which everything else may be sacrificed, 
if God should demand it ; and this sacrifice may 
be made without justly exciting wonder, or suppos- 
ing irrationality. He who is accustomed to con- 
sider himself in the light in which the gospel 
places us all, as a sinful creature, whose hope, 
here and hereafter, is only in the mercy of God ; 
he who places heaven and hell before his sight, 
and feels that his utmost exertions are necessary 
to secure the one, and avoid the other, such a 
man, I say, must be as different from one who be- 



1 1 8 SERMON VIII. 

lieves nothing of all this, as if a new sense had 
been imparted to him. 

Unquestionably, one principal cause of the fee- 
ble hold which subjects of religion have upon the 
mind, is the fancied remoteness of their objects, 
and the spiritual nature of the subjects of religious 
contemplation. What is immediately perceptible, 
tangible, pleasurable, or profitable, excites more 
emotion than any of those spiritual truths, which 
a man must study his own heart in order to under- 
stand. To excite this attention is the great object 
of our preaching ; and, to introduce my subject 
more immediately, I give you this anecdote of one 
of the most amiable men the world ever knew. 
In his last illness he was attended by a friend, 
who desired him, in his great wisdom and learn- 
ing, to give him a short direction how to lead his 
life to the best advantage ; to whom he only said, 
6 Be serious ; this is my parting advice to you, as 
what comprehends everything else I have said, be 
serious. 

My friends, till this seriousness is in some way 
excited, our labors are useless. The language 
of the preacher rolls over the attention like the 
morning dewdrops from the leaf, which fall to the 
ground where they cannot be gathered up again. 
It is true, this serious temper may in some cases 
be produced by an alarming providence, a probing 
discourse, and even by private and inconsiderable 
occurrences, which the world does not observe. 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. ] ] 9 

In others, where this disposition is more allied to 
the natural temper, it may be insensibly gaining 
strength, as the character matures, though no very 
noticeable change, at any particular period, may 
have occurred to draw the observation of the 
world. It is of infinite importance, especially for 
the rising generation, to know and feel that this 
seriousness is not enthusiasm ; that if what the 
gospel reveals is true, and we have so much to 
fear and so much to hope for, beyond the limits of 
this mortal life, it is a subject which no rational 
man can long think of, without the most solemn 
impressions. Our levity or inattention cannot 
affect their truth, and it is equally certain that 
every moment that we w 7 aste, is bringing us nearer 
to the time, when we shall be satisfied of the re- 
ality of what we are now only urged to believe. 

I shall now proceed to point out the difference 
between that seriousness which is the result of 
deep impressions of religion, and some other states 
of mind, which may be mistaken for it, or, at 
least, are thought to supply its place ; and then 
I shall offer what I believe to be some of the char- 
acteristics of religious seriousness. 

In the first place, there is in some men a cer- 
tain constitutional moderation and sedateness of 
mind, which passes for a serious temper. These 
are persons of extreme regularity of life ; men who 
are never thrown off their guard by violent emo- 
tions, either of joy or of apprehension, as to this 
world or the next. There is usually in such 



120 SERMON VIII. 

characters a great fund of worldly wisdom and of 
prudence, which keeps them aloof from excesses, 
and disposes them always to wish that the world 
may go on as it has done. They are afraid of 
any novelty or change in the state of affairs im- 
mediately around them ; and hence they arethe 
advocates for a peaceable continuance of old hab- 
its. They are what are called steady men and 
are indeed of great value to the well-being of the 
community. They are held out to the young as 
examples of what they should aspire to imitate ; 
and it is much to be desired that such a class of 
men, who are not the slaves of any visible vices, 
and not the promoters of any species of irregu- 
larity, should increase in a community and give it 
stability and respect. But the sedateness which 
arises merely from moderated passions or selfish- 
ness, and the sobriety proceeding merely from an- 
cient and regular habits, are very different from 
that seriousness which is produced by an habitual 
contemplation of the solemn truths which the gos- 
pel unfolds to us. This constitutional solidity of 
character, may exist with the utmost indifference 
to religious truth. It may exist in a mind which 
never has been touched with the grand thought of 
eternity, and never has inquired, with trembling 
apprehension, what it shall do to be saved. That 
kind of religious insensibility, which presentsjio- 
thing offensive in the external conduct, that uni- 
form sobriety of deportment, which is never be- 
trayed into any extravagance, which is perfectly 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. 1 2 1 

contented with itself, and conforms to the exter- 
nal faith of a community, is the most difficult dis- 
position in the world to awaken. There is no 
reaching such a heart by the ordinary applica- 
tions from the pulpit. It is almost impracticable 
to probe a conscience which has never seriously 
reproached itself. The character I have been 
describing is extremely common. It is not a re- 
ligious, it is a selfish, though a regular character. 
The man of truly serious impressions is often ex- 
ercised with the most solemn contemplations, the 
most moving anxieties, the most humble and de- 
votional sentiments. Real seriousness offers a 
ground for continual exertion and improvement ; 
but the mere sobriety of a worldly man, is always 
the same, always self-complacent, and therefore 
always stationary. 

2. There is another class of serious men, which 
I choose to rank under this head, because their 
character, though more intellectual, is hardly less 
removed from the seriousness of a religious mind. 
I mean the class of sedentary and studious men, 
whose pursuits, though they are intellectual and 
interesting, are not sanctified by any reference to 
God. This kind of life is extremely apt to flat- 
ter a man's self-complacency, and draw him cff 
from a serious consideration of the most important 
subjects in the world, the state of his own heart, 
and his relation to God and to eternity. It is a 
state of mind, which deceives the most thoughtful, 
because it engrosses him with contemplations, 
16 



J 22 SERMON VIII. 

which, though not as hallowed and sublime as 
those of religion, are yet very much above the or- 
dinary occupations of the world. But this studious 
disposition may exist together with a total igno- 
rance of the most secret faults and corruptions of 
the heart, the knowledge of which is the real foun- 
dation of a religious character. 

3. Religious seriousness of temper is to be care- 
fully distinguished from that constitutional melan- 
choly, with which it is sometimes associated. It 
is a favorite habit with many men, to account for 
any instance of mental despondency or derange- 
ment, by ascribing it, when they can, to religious 
impressions. It is true that in some minds, pre- 
disposed to this dreadful disorder, it may perhaps 
be occasioned by new and alarming views of reli- 
gion ; and it is to be expected, that where the 
most solemn subjects have gained possession of a 
mind of this cast, they should contribute to that 
fearful melancholy, which the state of the health 
originally promoted, and even that they should 
appear most prominent in the thoughts and con- 
versation of the person affected. But, even here, 
it is no more to be supposed that religion is the 
necessary source of such despondency, than so 
far as religion, when it gains possession of such a 
mind, must, from its very nature, engross it more 
completely than any other contemplations. The 
seriousness of a truly penitent mind is something 
different from any state of the body, or any disor- 
dered condition of the nerves. There is no more 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. 123 

religion in melancholy, abstractly considered, than 
there is in levity, or an excessive flow of animal 
spirits. On the contrary, where religions ideas 
are firmly established in the mind, where they 
are distinctly apprehended and properly associat- 
ed with all the habits of thinking, they are the 
best security against the usual causes of despon- 
dency, and most effectually counteract the ten- 
dencies which the constitution may possess to- 
wards melancholy. Certain I am, that the care- 
ful observation of the character of the most hum- 
ble and pious men, will correct this misapprehen- 
sion. It is true, that a man of habitual seriousness, 
will see much levity in the world which he can- 
not approve, and much enjoyment, which he must 
regard as dangerous in its present effects, and in 
its future consequences. But still he will be al- 
ways cheerful, always serene ; he will be ready to 
follow the injunction of the apostle and ' rejoice 
always. 5 

Lastly ; religious seriousness is to be careful- 
ly distinguished from that spirit of discontent and 
surly despondency, of which we see so many ex- 
amples. It is one thing to be disappointed in our 
expectations from this world, and another to be 
really solicitous about our fate in the next. It is 
one thing to be dissatisfied with the lot which 
Providence assigns us here, and another to be so 
far interested in the prospect of futurity as to be 
indifferent to the pleasures and pursuits in which 
the world is engaged. It is one thing to despise 



124 SERMON VIII. 

a pleasure, because we cannot share in it, and an- 
other to regard it with indifference, because it 
would interfere with our more serious pursuits. 
The pensive cast of a querulous man's temper, is 
not in any degree more favorable to religious im- 
pressions, than the vain and light frivolity of an 
unreflecting and giddy mind. The man of real 
seriousness, is also a man of humility. He com- 
pares himself as he is, with himself as he ought to 
be ; and his dissatisfaction is not with the world, 
but with himself. He is not depressed, because he 
is not thought of sufficient consequence in society, 
or because he cannot fashion his situation to his 
mind ; but he is serious when he looks at his own 
ill deserts. He is dissatisfied with the world, it is 
true ; not because he has been disappointed in his 
expectations, but because he sees so much to 
shun, and so much to fear. The thought of death 
makes him serious ; but it is a thought which he 
does not on that account banish, and if he is con- 
cerned to die, it is not about what he shall leave, 
but at what he shall find hereafter. Ambition, en- 
vy, and other selfish passions may cast a gloom over 
the features and depress the spirits. But these are 
not the passions which make men serious ; they 
rather shut up the mind against impressions of 
real devotion and the access of religious truth. 

II. In what remains of this discourse I shall 
endeavour to present to you, as I proposed, in the 
second place, a few plain characteristics of a truly 
serious mind. What I shall suggest will be easily 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. ] 25 

applicable by us to our individual characters, and 
will not be in danger of being confounded with 
the effects of that worldly sedateness which we 
have before described. 

1. In the first place, a man whose heart is 
habitually subject to religious influences, will not 
indulge himself on any occasion in that levity with 
which religious subjects are sometimes inconsid- 
erately treated. He not only finds it impossible 
to speak contemptuously or lightly of God, of our 
Saviour, of the rewards and punishments of anoth- 
er life, but he will not even indulge himself in 
rashly condemning the mistaken, but conscientious 
opinions of pious men. Everything connected 
with eternity or the future condition of the soul, 
becomes, by this single alliance, a subject of too 
great importance to be made ridiculous. He is 
convinced that any religious impressions, however 
irrational, are much to be preferred to that deadly 
indifference, which leaves religion entirely out of 
its meditations. Everything in conversation, or in 
conduct, which tends to weaken the influence of 
religious impressions, or to excite the doubts or 
fortify the prejudices of the world against the 
gospel, he observes with pain. It is a sensibility 
in the cause of God which he does not endeavour 
to conceal. He is willing that the world should 
know, that he considers the Deity too awful a be- 
ing to be made the subject of an impertinent re- 
mark, and the uncertainties of the future world 
too dreadful to be the sport of foolish contempt 



]26 SERMON VIII. 

or thoughtless vanity. He is hurt by everything 
in the character and conduct of others, which 
tends to place subjects of everlasting importance 
in the light of indifferent facts, or convenient 
customs. 

2. We shall perceive another criterion of re- 
ligious seriousness, if we attend to the manner in 
which we observe the public ordinances of God's 
worship. We can easily inform ourselves, by a 
careful examination of our motives, whether we 
come up to God's house of prayer, merely from 
long custom or decent formality, or from a solemn 
regard to the nature of the duty and of the Being 
to whom worship is addressed ; whether we ap- 
pear here only to indulge one of the varieties of 
curiosity, or whether our hearts are really solicitous 
to worship God, to humble ourselves, and gain 
instruction or encouragement in duty. We can 
judge also of the seriousness of our tempers by 
the state of mind in which we observe the exercises 
of worship. If we find our thoughts dissipated, 
and our attention wandering, it implies that we 
are not sufficiently impressed with the solemnity 
of our employment. It argues also strongly against 
the seriousness of our religious views, if we are 
more disposed to be wearied with the tediousness, 
than satisfied with the devotion of the service ; if 
we are more alive to any impropriety with which 
it may be conducted, than to the impressive nature 
of adoration, the humbling influence of confession, 
the tranquillizing power of supplication, and the 



RELIGIOUS SERIOUSNESS. 127 

solemnity of all the subjects which are brought 
up to our attention. I hesitate not to lay it down 
as an infallible maxim, that he who is not serious 
in the worship of God, knows nothing of religion, 
nothing of himself. The fear of God has never 
fallen upon him ; the sense of God's excellence, 
or of his own unworthiness, has never obtained 
possession of his mind. 

3. A third test of the seriousness of our dispo- 
sitions we shall find, whenever we consider the 
nature of our private thoughts on this subject, and 
especially of our private devotions. Perhaps, in 
the bustle of life and the rapid succession of 
amusements and pleasures, we may have been be- 
trayed into follies which we cannot approve, and 
occupations which shut out religion from our 
thoughts. But if we possess a really serious mind, 
whenever we can retire within ourselves and en- 
gage in our secret meditations, we shall find our 
sense of the importance of religious truth return- 
ing, with increased influence, to our minds ; we 
shall find that the world, in which we have been 
dissipated, will only have refreshed our interest 
and enhanced our satisfaction in religious contem- 
plations. 

If, on the contrary, we find that our pleasures 
in society have only made our devotions cold, our 
meditations irksome, our religious views indistinct, 
our expressions formal, and have shed over our 
minds a distaste for our duty and our religion, it 
is time to consider whether we have ever been 



128 SERMON VIII. 

seriously engaged in the service of God. It is 
time to consider whether our religion is not a mere 
compromise only between God and the world, our 
conscience and our passions. 

I could enlarge on this subject, but I forbear. 
I will only say to you, my friends, if there is any- 
thing on earth to make a man serious, it is death. 
And uncertain as we are of its distance, and sure 
as we are of its approach, within a few years at 
most, the man whom this thought does not solem- 
nize, is not within the reach of other considera- 
tions. Death ! my friends ! Is it a mere word, or 
is it an event on which everything depends ? 
Whose are we ? Whither are we tending ? What 
is our destination ? Has God spoken to us on this 
subject, or has he not ? If he has, can it be thought 
of for a moment with indifference ? Till you 
have made this, then, the subject of your most 
serious considerations, I can say nothing which 
can reach you ; and when you have regarded it 
with the importance which it demands, I can say 
nothing to enhance its solemnity. 



SERMON IX. 



GOD'S PROVIDENCE AS SHOWN IN THE HISTORY OF REVE- 
LATION. 



Acts, XV. 18. 

KNOWN UNTO GOD ARE ALL HIS WORKS FROM THE BEGINNING OF 
THE WORLD. 

In a former discourse I attempted to set before 
you those proofs of the providence of God, which 
are derived from a contemplation of his character, 
as learned from the appearances of nature. In the 
present I wish to bring to your view those striking 
evidences of God's superintendence of the world 
which are found in the history of revelation. 

Before we proceed, however, to this part of our 
subject, allow me to say, that if there is sufficient 
reason to believe that God has ever interposed to 
reveal his own character and will, in any other 
way than by the unassisted exercise of human rea- 
son in the contemplation of his works, this is in 
itself a satisfactory proof of his providence. Rev- 
elation, then, is in itself the most substantial proof 
which can be offered of this great truth. But has 
God ever thus interfered in the concerns of mor- 
17 



130 SERMON IX. 

tals ? It has been the invariable opinion of man- 
kind that he has ; and the histories which are 
contained in the Jewish and Christian scriptures, 
are full of such relations. Till, therefore, some 
reason can be given, that the facts which we find 
these books to contain, are impossible or improba- 
ble, they are unquestionably entitled to the same 
credit with any other authentic works. 

These books contain also many remarkable pre- 
dictions. If, then, it can be once made to appear 
that any one of these prophecies has been circum- 
stantially accomplished, the proof is complete of 
the providence and superintendence of the Divin- 
ity over the affairs of men. 

But I wish to enter more deeply into this sub- 
ject of revelation, and to show you, if possible, 
from a survey of the different dispensations of 
which the bible gives us an account, that God 
has, from the first, maintained a moral care of 
mankind ; that he has been seasonably providing 
for their religious wants, and has been carrying on, 
from the creation of the world, a vast scheme of 
human improvement, which illustrates his natural 
and moral providence. 

The bible, my friends, is distinguished from all 
other books that were ever written, or, at least, 
that now exist, in this circumstance ; that it con- 
tains the history of these operations and purposes 
of God. Open it where you will, and you find 
traces of these operations. God is the grand ob- 
ject which it presents. His work is the great busi- 



PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 131 

ness which it discloses. His purposes are the 
grand points to which all its narratives direct us. 
In this book man appears under a different aspect 
from that in which he appears elsewhere ; as a 
creature under the moral government of God, 
and the subject of God's retributive and provisory 
care ; and the most vast and interesting views are 
opened of human destination and hopes. 

It is with a mixture of gratitude and of awe, that 
I look into this book. It contains the history of 
God and man in their connexion and intercommu- 
nication, and it is the only work which throws 
any satisfactory light on the origin, and progress, 
and destination of the human race, as moral crea- 
tures. We find here, it is true, many extraordi- 
nary relations, adapted to the infancy of mankind, 
and gradually becoming less frequent, as the fac- 
ulties were unfolded and the moral notions of man- 
kind were established. But even in the history of 
these, we find the same proofs of a wise provi- 
dence, in the order and successive perfection of 
the different dispensations of religion, that we find 
in the natural growth and intellectual progress of 
individuals. This proof of the divine superinten- 
dence I wish now to trace out with you v 

In the Jewish and Christian scriptures we have 
a history of a portion at least of this superinten- 
dence, and the portion in which we are most 
interested ; of what may have been vouchsafed to 
other natures, we know not the manner, nor the 



132 SERMON IX. 

extent. After ascribing to one Supreme God the 
creation and peopling of the world, they go on to 
explain the mode by which God maintained his 
government over his creatures, and gave them a 
just sense of religious and moral obligation. Dur- 
ing this period of the world's infancy, we find that 
visible intercourse and audible communications of 
the Deity were common. Before mankind had 
learnt to deduce from the view of nature, any no- 
tion of one Supreme Intelligence, or had derived 
from experience any directions of conscience, or 
any knowledge of their real good, God conde- 
scended to instruct them frequently and copiously 
in the most necessary knowledge. 

The history tells us that he placed the first pair 
in a garden, under a prohibition to eat of the fruit 
of a certain tree ; but they yet, yielding to a temp- 
tation, disobeyed and became subject to the dread- 
ful consequences of transgression. 

In this original dispensation there is shadowed 
forth to us the situation of mankind as moral be- 
ings. We are destined to a species of happiness 
which depends upon a previous probation. The 
nature of virtue and happiness, as God has con- 
stituted it, everywhere supposes a capacity of 
transgression, and a period of trial. In the history 
then of our first parents, we have the first elements 
of a moral government, and everything which we 
know of God, justifies his appointment of this 
original dispensation. 



PROVIDENCE OF GOD. ] 33 

The subsequent condition of the world, as a 
state of labor, difficulty, temptation, and death, 
is represented as^the consequence of this trans- 
gression of Adam. However we may choose to 
account for it, we may be certain that it was a part 
of the original plan of God, in training up human 
creatures for a superior state, that this should be 
the condition of humanity, and there is no reason 
why we should not be satisfied with the scripture 
account of its introduction. 

These ancient books contain many other ac- 
counts of the appearance and interposition of God, 
all directed to promote the same purpose, the 
growth of virtue and knowledge in the world. 
Hence the deluge, which swept away a corrupt 
race, when Noah was preserved to keep up the 
knowledge of God, and to commence a new era 
among men. The accounts which we have of the 
frequent appearances of the Deity in those early 
ages, are perfectly suitable to the infant state of 
mankind. All the operations of nature, and all 
the changes and events of life, are there uni- 
formly ascribed to the power and will of the Cre- 
ator ; and even whatever consequences follow the 
will of men, are there imputed to the providence 
of God. 

In process of time, we find that one peculiar 
people was selected from the multitude of nations, 
to give to'^the rest of the world, by their whole his- 
tory and fate, a visible specimen of God's provi- 
dence. Abraham is called from the midst of his 



134 SERMON IX. 

idolatrous kindred, and his family are made the 
depositaries of the religious knowledge which God 
chose to vouchsafe to mankind. This destination, 
sealed by the adoption of a peculiar rite, was in- 
troduced with reference to future consequences 
of vast importance to mankind. From this cir- 
cumstance we may date all the religious know- 
ledge which we now enjoy, and to it we owe this 
book of God, this church which has existed, 
through so many hazardous fortunes, to the pres- 
ent hour. 

The manner in which God exhibited his provi- 
dence towards the family and posterity of Abraham, 
is a subject of most curious contemplation. The 
purpose for which they were prepared was the 
most noble which can be imagined ; to preserve the 
knowledge of one true God, in the midst of an 
idolatrous world, and not only so, but to be the 
examples of the moral government of this God, in 
the instance of national remuneration in this world, 
for obedience to a prescribed and positive law, 
and to be the depositaries of those predictions, by 
which the world was to be prepared for the Mes- 
siah and that evangelical dispensation under which 
we live. 

The history of this wonderful people, the pos- 
terity of Abraham, is full of proofs of some great 
purpose for which they were so greatly distin- 
guished. Their original deliverance from bon- 
dage in Egypt, their peregrinations in the wilder- 
ness, their detachment from other nations, and 



PROVIDENCE OF GOD. \S5 

indeed the peculiar notions of their own import- 
ance, which their singular fate generated among 
them, were all calculated to preserve them from 
the contagion of idolatry, and the corruptions of 
the surrounding world. They had perpetual 
proofs of the providence of the Supreme Jeho- 
vah. Punishment invariably followed their apos- 
tasies ; and last of all, by their captivity in Baby- 
lon, the remains of idolatrous propensities were 
rooted out of their minds, and they preserve even 
to the present day, wherever they have been found, 
and in every successive age, the singular belief of 
the great principles of theism, and the unity of 
God. 

By the Jewish dispensation, mankind were 
taught, as I conceive, in the way of national re- 
tribution, the moral government of God in this 
world. But a greater scene was to be disclosed, 
and the character of God, and the destination of 
man, as it extends to future ages and another life, 
was to be the subject of another revelation. 

Predictions had been successively given of 
some great deliverer who was hereafter to appear, 
more fully charged with the purposes of the Most 
High. It was foretold that he was to put an end 
to this more imperfect dispensation, burdened as 
it was with peculiar ceremonies, and ritual obser- 
vances ; a Deliverer, who, by his example, pre- 
cepts, and death, was to give stronger evidence of 
some important principles of conduct, and to dis- 
cover others, which had either been not revealed 



136 SERMON IX. 

or only obscurely intimated under preceding dis- 
pensations. Under him mankind were to be 
brought to a more perfect subjection to the mor- 
al government of God, and to be formed into one 
great society, holy and happy, ard to go on im- 
proving till they reach the city of the living God, 
the new Jerusalem. 

The distinctions which had been suffered to ex- 
ist for the preservation of the Jews in their alle- 
giance, were now to be abolished, Jew and Gen- 
tile brought into the same community, and God to 
be represented as the common father of all men, 
exercising his government over them with refer- 
ence to a future life, when all would be made sub- 
ject to an individual retribution and remunera- 
tion. 

While our Saviour was on earth, you know the 
powers which were imparted to him for the con- 
firmation of his doctrine, and the authority that 
was committed to him in heaven and on earth, all 
for the purpose of establishing this last dispensa- 
tion of the Most High, and for propagating and 
completing his religion. Miracles were necessary 
to gain attention to the gospel and to give it au- 
thority on its introduction ; but you will acknow- 
ledge that a perpetuity of miracles would not only 
weaken that very attention, but destroy all that 
authority. When therefore God has sufficiently 
promulgated a revelation, he leaves it to or- 
dinary and human means of preservation. It is 
left to the conduct of that nation or society in 



PROVIDENCE OF GOD. ] 37 

nvhich it is planted, to be handed down by their 
care to posterity. It is a system of divine doc- 
trines and established rules of life, and must be 
subject to the common methods of instruction and 
taught like other sciences. 

The consequences of this dispensation we find 
in the effects which it has already produced, and 
we believe will continue to produce, in the world. 
We know that much of the cruelty and supersti- 
tion of paganism disappeared ; that new lights of 
truth and virtue burst in upon the minds of men ; 
and that multitudes were transformed into new, 
holy, wise, and pious creatures. Instead of the 
idolatry of the Gentiles and the ceremonial ob- 
servances of the Jews, there arose on their ruins, 
a rational and manly piety, produced by the new 
views of God's parental character and gracious 
designs. We know that from this era there ap- 
peared among men a spirit of universal and ten- 
der charity, which was before unknown and un- 
imagined. 

The religion of Jesus Christ gave a new char- 
acter to the minds of thousands. It elevated, it 
purified, and spiritualized those who were before 
sensual and worldly. It gave them ideas of hap- 
piness superior to all other felicity. It taught 
them to despise the honors and the terrors of the 
world, and to aspire after the divine favor as an 
end, and the divine likeness as their glory. 

These are justly called the fruits of the spirit ; 
for it is the gospel, and the gospel only, when 
13 



138 SERMON IX. 

properly understood and heartily received, which' 
has ever produced them. We find in the first pe- 
riods of the church, that it was remarkably produc- 
tive of these effects, and the change is very strik- 
ing when we consider that the gospel was preached 
to men, who had been born in the darkness of 
heathenism, and under the bondage of Jewish 
ceremonies. 

And are there no effects of this kind yet pro- 
duced ? Has not the gospel now the same salutary 
efficacy ? Is not its best influence to be traced 
in society ? Is the purpose of God defeated ? 
No, it cannot be, as long as the religion of Christ 
retains, as it ever must, the same credibility. The 
revolutions of the church, the successive periods 
of revival and declension, the temporary triumphs 
of infidelity, are all provided for in the plan of 
the Most High. The gospel is yet a powerful in- 
strument in God's moral government. The Chris- 
tian believes that all the revolutions which the 
christian world has known, were foreseen, and 
provided for in this last dispensation, and relying 
upon the accomplishment of past predictions, the 
Christian is warranted to entertain the confident 
expectation of the glorious and universal triumph 
of the religion of Jesus Christ. 

This view of the divine dispensations suggests, 
among others, the following remarks. 

There is a general uniformity of character in 
all these specimens of God's moral care of man- 
kind. Goodness and wisdom characterize them all. 



PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 139 

As they are, also, instances alike of pure good- 
ness and of unmerited care. There is no injustice 
or partiality in their limited introduction, though 
the whole race of men that has existed on the 
earth, may not at any time have been admitted to 
share in the same degrees of supernatural assist- 
ance. In every case men will be accepted ac- 
cording to what they have, and not according to 
what they have not. God is not obliged by any 
principle to give to all men the means of the same 
degree of perfection, either in this world or the 
next ; and those whose capacity for revelation falls 
below that of those who have the advantages of 
a birth and education in Christendom, will find a 
reward suited to the enlargement of their minds, 
or a punishment proportioned to the degree of the 
advantages which they have abused. To whom- 
soever much is given, of him only will much be 
required. 

We may observe one common intention running 
through each of these dispensations, and that is, to 
promote the virtue and happiness of our race ; 
and though we are not placed in precisely the 
same circumstances with our first parents, to whom 
the original revelation was made, yet our situation 
agrees with theirs in this ; we are upon probation 
as they were, in order to form tempers of holiness, 
and in order to become worthy of eternal life. 

It cannot fail to be remarked, that, as every pre- 
ceding dispensation seems to have prepared the 
way for that which succeeded it, so they were all 



140 SERMON IX. 

severally adapted to the capacities, the progress, 
and the existing moral and religious state of man- 
kind. 

Every preceding dispensation seems also to 
have contained some intimations of that under 
which we live ; and from some expressions in the 
scriptures we have strong reasons to conclude 
that this is ultimate, and that all that God intends 
to do for mankind in the way of supernatural in- 
terposition, he has done by Jesus Christ. 

These dispensations, or the history of God's 
moral government, furnish subjects of sublime and 
grateful contemplation to angels and to men. 
They represent God in the fairest and most inter- 
esting of lights, when we consider that all these 
have been known to him from the beginning of the 
world, and that his parental care discovers itself 
in every communication, which God has made 
since man was created. 

There are many circumstances in this history 
which once appeared unintelligible, but which 
now we more clearly understand. Such, in par- 
ticular, was the rejection and consequent fortune 
of the Jewish nation, once the people of God, 
which made the apostle exclaim, ' Oh ! the depth 
of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge 
of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, 
and his ways past rinding out ! ' Now we perceive 
how indispensable it was to make the divine ori- 
gin of the gospel more apparent, and what strength 
it continues to add to its proofs. 



PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 141 

If there are difficulties which yet serve to exer- 
cise our humanity and our study, we must not be 
surprised. The great apostasies in Christendom, 
the growth of infidelity, and the present state of 
the world, are all preparatory to some more glori- 
ous era in the church. The morning of the Re- 
formation was preceded by greater darkness, mor- 
al and intellectual, than we have since known, 
and it is to be hoped that we have not reached 
the meridian of this day, and that we shall not be 
obliged to pass through another night of religious 
darkness before the purposes of God shall be fin- 
ished. But however this may be, we have noth- 
ing to do but to preserve minds sincerely desirous 
of inquiring after the truth, meekly submissive to 
what God has revealed, and patiently to persevere 
in well-doing through all the changes of the pre- 
sent dispensation. To us Christians this is the 
language of God's grace ; ' Walk thou thy way to 
the end, for after all thy trials and disquietudes, if 
thou preservest thy integrity and thy faith, thou 
shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of the 
days.' 



SERMON X 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 



Hebrews, III. 12. 



TAKE HEED, BRETHREN, LEST THERE BE IN YOU AN EVIL HEART 
OF UNBELIEF. 

Between the two propositions that the gospel 
is true, and that it is false ; between the belief 
that it is the revelation of God, and the opinion 
that it is the work of men, the chasm is so vast 
that it is impossible there should not be some great 
difference in the minds or in the hearts of those 
men, who, with similar advantages and means, can 
form different conclusions upon the subject. The 
question with respect to religion amounts in fact 
to this ; Is there, or is there not, any satisfactory 
assurance that this life is not the termination of 
man's existence ? Are all the hopes, the fears, 
and the anticipations of mankind, that there is an 
eternity to come, merely uncertain and delusive 
suggestions ? 

The inquiry whether the gospel be true, involves 
in it the question, whether God, who has given us 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 143 

our mental powers, our moral sense, and our an- 
ticipations of another life, has ever interposed for 
the salvation of this part of his creation, or wheth- 
er man has always been left, upon a subject of 
such importance, to the weakness of his own unas- 
sisted reason, and the corruption of his actual 
condition. It involves the question, whether the 
Jewish history, at present the most authentic in 
the world, is a mere fable, and especially whether 
that wonderful event of the death and resurrection 
of Jesus Christ, which so many great and good 
men have sacrificed their lives to authenticate, is 
a gross delusion and imposition. In short, by the 
admission or rejection of Christianity, the aspect 
of the world is changed. If this source of hopes, 
fears, comforts, restraints, reasonings, and medita- 
tions, is blotted out of the human mind, its whole 
character must be transformed. 

Undoubtedly in a fair and uncorrupted mind 
the bias would be altogether in favor of religion ; 
for it makes of man a creature so much superior 
to what he would be without it, it raises him so 
much nearer heaven, and opens to him such sub- 
lime and exhilarating views with respect to God, 
to himself, and to society, that we should think the 
world would press to receive it, and that without 
it man would consider himself but half enlight- 
ened. Alas ! it is not so. Thousands are busy 
in chasing from their minds every suggestion in 
its favor, and stopping their ears, lest the news of 
the gospel of peace should gain access to their 
hearts. 



144 SERMON X. 

The object of this discourse will be to explain 
the sources of unbelief. I fear we shall find that, 
in the language of the apostle, ' If our gospel is 
hid, it is hid to them who are lost.' 

I. In the first place, I do not hesitate to say, 
that the least dishonorable source of infidelity is 
ignorance. Many think that to differ from the 
vulgar is to be superior to them, and that it is a 
proof of having thought deeply, to be able to start 
objections to the most common truths. But of all 
the proofs of human weakness, I know none great- 
er, than that indolence of mind, which shows itself 
in the disposition which is satisfied with proposing 
difficulties, instead of searching for truths. The 
truth of the gospel is a fact, of which at first it 
required only the exercise of the senses to satisfy 
one's self. Of course there was no need of learning, 
to be a well informed Christian. But now, at this 
distance of time, it has become a work of superior 
knowledge and fairness, to understand and illus- 
trate its true foundation, and a very superficial 
employment to suggest objections, because time 
has already furnished them to our hands. It 
is no longer a test of superior sagacity to doubt 
the truth of a religion which the most gifted minds 
have believed, relying upon great and various and 
impregnable proofs, though few of those who re- 
ceive it, have ever examined the whole grounds 
of their faith, or felt the most serious objections. 

It may be remarked, without danger of contra- 
diction, that of those who reject the gospel, the 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 145 

majority are extremely ignorant of scripture, and 
in this branch of necessary knowledge are very 
much inferior to many Christians, whom they ven- 
ture to despise. Their reading has been in a dif- 
ferent direction. Hence, all they know of the Old 
and New Testament, is, perhaps, that there are 
passages in them which are strange or unintelligi- 
ble, and thus they venture to decide upon this 
most grand and solemn question, often without 
having read, much more having studied the book, 
which reveals the destination of the human race. 

I may venture yet further to assert, that few of 
those who reject Christianity, possess much of the 
knowledge which is necessary to a thorough un- 
derstanding of the scriptures. They do not con- 
sider how unreasonable it is to expect that books 
written, as many of those of the bible were, more 
than two thousand years ago, and in a dead lan- 
guage, should be as intelligible as the books which 
appear every day, in their vernacular tongue. 
They do not consider, that it would have required 
a perpetual miracle to preserve the meaning in 
every place from obscurity, the text from corrup- 
tion, or the pen of every translator from mistakes. 
In consequence of this ignorance and narrowness 
of mind, they are disgusted with everything which 
they cannot at once reconcile with modern opin- 
ions, language, and manners ; they are overthrown 
with every difficulty, and find only arguments for 
infidelity in everything which they do not under- 
stand. They are men of business, perhaps, and 
19 



146 SERMON X. 

have not the previous information necessary to un- 
derstand their bibles ; they are men of wit, and 
think that everything which is not sparkling or inge- 
nious, is dull ; they are men in office, and have no 
time to think deeply of these subjects, which, they 
are inclined to believe, are at least of doubtful 
importance ; or they are men of fashion, and do 
not find that religion is ever thought of in polite 
circles. Thus they live with the reputation of 
superior wisdom, because they are really ignorant 
of what they venture to despise, alive only to ob- 
jections, and only insensible to proofs. 

II. But it must, in the second place, be impar- 
tially granted, that another source of infidelity 
is found in the misrepresentations which have 
been made of the christian doctrine. Subjects of 
doubtful disputation have been exalted into arti- 
cles of christian faith, and men have been requir- 
ed to believe, not merely that God has given us a 
revelation, but also just such a revelation as men, 
in language unauthorised by scripture, have chosen 
to frame. One man, travelling through countries 
which are called christian, meets at every step 
the mummery of unmeaning ceremonies, the su- 
perstition of an enslaved people and hypocriti- 
cal priests, and he forgets that all this may not be 
Christianity. Another, of a serious and candid 
mind, is perhaps thrown into the vortex of fanati- 
cism. He finds Christianity is made to consist in 
agitations of the passions, and is explained in a 
rhapsodical dialect, which to him is utterly unin- 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 1 47 

telligible. He sees the effect of this mechanical 
excitement, for which he cannot account ; he sees 
the influence of religious sympathy upon the minds 
of thousands, and he falls into this snare, that rea- 
son can have little to do with a system which en- 
courages such follies, and that it was originally al- 
together the delusion of weak and wicked minds. 

How few, my friends, of those who believe in 
Christianity, have taken their religion from the 
New Testament! They have received all their 
ideas on this most interesting subject from their 
nurses, their catechisms, or their preachers ; and 
when they have found, that some of the doctrines, 
which they had received for Christianity, were ir- 
reconcileably opposed to the subsequent discove- 
ries of their minds, instead of informing themselves 
of the real doctrines of scripture, they have re- 
jected the whole as unintelligible or absurd. 

It must be allowed also, that some men have in- 
sensibly slid into infidelity by attempts to simplify 
the system of Christianity. They have concluded 
that what was so very reasonable and intelligible, 
could not be a subject of special revelation, and 
thus have they brought themselves to a refined spe- 
cies of Deism, in which there is left nothing su- 
pernatural, nothing peculiarly proper for miracu- 
lous interposition. But they have soon found, 
that the difficulties in mere natural religion, with- 
out that humility which is the real foundation of 
all faith, become insuperable, and the transition is 
not difficult to Atheism and universal doubt. The 



148 SERMON X. 

progress of innumerable minds has been from ir- 
rational views of Christianity, to total unbelief. 
My friends, if we would all first satisfy ourselves of 
the historical evidence of the gospel facts, and 
then each for himself carefully study the New 
Testament, and find his religion there, we should 
not see so many dogmatical, nor so many incredu- 
lous minds ; we should not see the Calvinist pas- 
sing into the Deist, the Atheist, the universal 
skeptic, and through mere want of repose, falling 
back into the bosom of an infallible church. No, 
it is from our having taken our religious opinions 
from authority, and not from the scriptures, that 
we see so much uncertainty and contradiction 
among Protestants. 

III. It must thirdly be admitted, that another 
source of unbelief is pride. We now draw near- 
er to the meaning of our text, and we shall find 
reasons enough to justify the censure of the apos- 
tle when he calls it an evil heart of unbelief. A 
superficial observer may be inclined to accuse us 
of uncharitableness when we say, in the language 
of the prophet, ' the pride of thine heart hath de- 
ceived thee ; ? and we shall be asked, How can a 
man avoid believing upon proper evidence ? I an- 
swer, that there is nothing so easy as to avoid con- 
viction. In every question which is not intuitive 
or demonstrable, in every question of fact or of 
opinion, where nothing more than moral certainty 
can be obtained, perhaps there is not a subject in 
the world, in which men's previous dispositions 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. ] 49 

do not promote or retard their belief. We see in- 
stances of this in the plainest matters of fact of 
every day's occurrence, facts which, with precise- 
ly the same grounds of belief, are rejected or ad- 
mitted, according to the party, the prejudices, the 
hopes, or the fears of the individual. 

Do you ask how pride may have so great a 
share in the conclusions which men form on the 
subject of religion ? I answer in the first place, the 
gospel appears upon the face of it to contain a 
religion, not for this man or that, who may wish 
to know more than his neighbour, but for the poor 
as well as the rich, the low as well as the high, 
the illiterate as well as the learned. It is a bles- 
sing which is accessible to any man, without the 
aid of any of those exterior distinctions, which 
constitute the pride of so many weak, and of so 
many superior understandings. The man who 
embraces the gospel is sensible that in this act 
there is nothing which distinguishes him from the 
vulgar, and he is unwilling to believe, even on 
satisfactory evidence, what his poor neighbour be- 
lieves without any evidence at all. The very first 
principle of Christianity is humility. It implies 
that something has been done for man, which he 
could not do for himself, and he who is not wil- 
ling to acknowledge his dependence upon God, 
and who is not prepared to believe that God may 
have revealed something to the humblest under- 
standing, which his own unaided reason could not 
have discovered, and cannot now completely com- 



150 SERMON X. 

prehend in all its connexions with other truths, is 
at an immense distance from the reception of 
Christianity. Nothing is more hostile to pride, 
either of intellect or station, than the gospel. Ev- 
ery line of it teaches dependence upon God, ig- 
norance of his purposes, and reliance upon his 
mercy alone. It raises the lowly and depresses 
the ambitious. It scorns the pageantry of the 
world, and assures us that, in the eye of one Being 
at least, there is no respect of persons. Few, 
very few are the minds which can come to the 
examination of such a religion with unbiassed af- 
fections. 

IV. A fourth and more important source of un- 
belief remains to be examined ; and that is, the 
previous disinclination which a man of corrupt and 
vicious character must necessarily find in himself, 
to a system so pure, and intellectual as that of the 
gospel. 

Here I shall be arrested at once, by the re- 
proach that it is invidious and uncharitable to 
charge to the corruptions of a man's heart, rather 
than to any other cause, that he does not think as 
we do upon any speculative subject, however im- 
portant it may be in our opinion ; and you will tell 
me that such an argument is unfair, because, from 
the very nature of it, it must be unanswerable. 
You will tell me, that no one has a right to make 
use of it but God, who searches the heart, and who 
therefore alone knows the powers, opportunities, 
and unavoidable prejudices of every man's mind. 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 151 

But this is not a just statement of the question. 
We do not say that he who rejects a system of 
belief which we consider true, as well as pure and 
holy in the highest degree, proves by this simple 
act, that it is a corruption of heart that leads him 
to this rejection. No ; for however strong the pre- 
sumption, that his understanding is in this case 
biassed by his passions, it belongs neither to you 
nor to me, nor to any other observer, to pro- 
nounce upon the fact, but to Him only who seeth 
not as man seeth. We do not say this. We say 
only that a man who is corrupt, or selfish, or 
worldly, will be antecedently disinclined to believe 
a system which condemns his favorite propensi- 
ties. We do not say that his unbelief is infallibly 
to be charged to his corruption ; we say only that 
his corruption must have a tendency to prevent 
his belief. Do you not see that the former is 
judging a man's heart and character from what 
he professes to believe, and the latter is merely 
showing what a man's character and propensities 
are likely to incline him to believe? 

The influence also of a man's depraved habits 
or affections is unavoidably greater on this ques- 
tion of religion than on any other, because it is, of 
all the questions which can exercise the human 
mind, the least of a merely speculative question. 
You would be as likely to believe that there was 
such a man as Alexander, or to admit one of 
the axioms of mathematics, with a corrupt as a 
pure heart, with a dishonest as with a fair under- 



152 SERMON X. 

standing. But it is not merely a speculative in- 
quiry whether God has, or has not, revealed his 
will to mankind. It is not merely a matter of cu- 
riosity, whether you are or are not accountable to 
any other tribunal than that of society, and wheth- 
er a future and eternal existence depends, or not, 
upon your habits and character in this life. These 
are questions which involve the whole of man's 
duty and expectations. You must be an entirely 
different creature, if these have, from what you 
may be if they have not, been the subjects of an 
authenticated revelation from God himself. 

But you will tell me that a man's duties remain 
the same, whether there has been a special revela- 
tion of them or not ; the dictates of conscience 
are equally powerful, and the law of nature re- 
mains in all its force. Conscience ! my friends, 
what is the authority of conscience without the 
belief of the existence of God ? And what is the 
value of a belief in the existence of God, if that 
God has discovered no interest in the affairs of 
the world, and there should be no future state 
where his righteous and fearful retributions shall 
be dispensed ? It is of little consequence that a 
God exists, if you have no more to do with him 
than the bare appearance of the present state of 
things discovers to you, and if you have nothing 
to fear or to hope from him, but for the kw years 
you have to live on earth, and even during this 
period, if you believe no more of him, than that 
such a being exists somewhere in the universe. 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 153 

Can you shelter yourselves under this miserable 
subterfuge ? Look at the standard which the faith- 
less man of the world sets up for himself, and 
answer me, does it lay those restraints ? Does it 
condemn those indulgences in which irreligious 
men allow themselves, without the loss of much 
tranquillity, or of much credit in this world ? Will 
a man who lives only for the present world approach 
to the purity of one who lives by faith, and not by 
sight ? In the same proportion, then, as the purity 
of the rule, and the greatness of the sanctions of 
revelation exceed the laws of society and the fears 
of present inconvenience, must the indisposition 
of a depraved man to the gospel be stronger than 
to any other truths which the mind can receive. 

Again ; the man who knows the least of Chris- 
tianity, knows that its spirit, if not its verbal pre- 
cepts, is always at war with many of the maxims 
by which the world is governed, and is plainly 
contradictory to the sensual propensities of the 
human heart. You cannot open the New Tes- 
tament but you meet with some maxim like 
these. 6 Cleanse yourself from all filthiness of 
the flesh and spirit, and perfect holiness in the 
fear of God.' ' He that will be my disciple, let 
him deny himself,' says our Saviour, < and take up 
his cross, and follow me.' c This is a hard saying, 
who can hear it.' This, however, is the character 
of the gospel morality ; and the sensual man dis- 
cerns in this first glance of the features of Chris- 
20 



154 SERMON X. 

tianity, the expression of an enemy's countenance, 
and he turns away in fear or aversion. 

Here is a man who is devoted to the perpetual 
accumulation of wealth, so that his ruling passion 
is the acquisition of property. Surely that religion 
can excite nothing but aversion in him, which 
elevates the poor to a level with himself; which 
denounces the avaricious and worldly spirit that 
places all its pride and confidence in wealth, and 
which even goes so far as to inform him, that cir- 
cumstances may arise, when, under pain of God's 
displeasure, he must willingly give up all this 
mighty mass of treasure for the sake of truth and 
virtue. Such a man would gladly ,be excused 
from believing so hard a system, and willing to 
remain at least undecided, if he cannot with an 
easy conscience utterly reject it. 

There is a man of an irascible temper, who 
cannot endure opposition or forget an injury. 
Surely he will not receive, without infinite diffi- 
culty, a religion which is utterly at war with his 
passions, and with passions, too, which his com- 
merce with the world informs him are not very 
dishonorable, and which most of the men in similar 
situations with himself are disposed above all 
others to excuse. How willingly will such a man 
consent to remain in doubt of the authority of the 
meek and forgiving religion of Jesus ! 

Take the innumerable slaves of sensuality, who 
live for the gratification of appetite, or the more 
gross pleasures of voluptuousness. Can they con- 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 1^5 

sent to believe that a religion has the express 
sanction of God in its favor, which declares that 
neither whoremongers nor adulterers shall have 
part with the children of God ; which commands 
us to crucify the flesh, and abstain from those lusts 
which war against the soul? Oh ! no. Who loves 
to have his dream of security interrupted ? Who 
will give his hand to a guide to lead him to a spot 
where an abyss of perdition opens under his feet ? 
a spot where he thought the ground was firm and 
solid under him ? Who will bare his bosom to 
that piercing light, which lays open the miseries 
of his heart ? It may perhaps be false, such a 
man will say ; why should I disturb myself with 
additional proofs of its truth ? 

Let those who would quench this heavenly light, 
let those who would reject the gospel, consider 
for a moment where they would leave the world, 
and to what they would reduce it Suppose the 
gospel of Jesus rejected, and the restraints of 
Christianity universally thrown off, the belief of 
its most alarming, and its most comforting truths 
alike discarded. Suppose the faith of the world, 
ofter wandering up and down among the specula- 
tions of unassisted reason, left to find for itself a 
place to rest. Suppose the authority of the sacred 
books overthrown, the history of Jesus of Naza- 
reth rejected as an idle tale, the institutions of 
his religion without support and without respect, 
and all the fears and hopes of a future life banish- 
ed like the dreams of heathen mythology. Then 



156 SERMON X. 

let us revisit this earth, emancipated from Chris- 
tianity, and in rebellion against God, and what 
should we find ? The minds of the few virtuous 
torn with doubts, and the understandings of the 
common people enveloped in gross darkness ; the 
beds of the dying planted with anxiety ; the be- 
reaved sunk in stupid amazement, or unconsoled 
anguish ; the penitent without relief, the impeni- 
tent without fear ; the dying and the dead alike 
without knowledge or hope ; the poor without 
friends ; the rich without restraint ; the cries of 
suffering humanity ascending without the hope of 
being heard, and the world left without a Saviour 
to grope its way to eternal life. 

Let him who loves not to look at this picture, 
reflect before he rejects the gospel. If it is true, it 
is as interesting to this man, as to that ; if it is 
true, our salvation is as much involved in its re- 
ception as that of the humblest creature to whom 
it has been preached. Blot it out, and the dark- 
ness which would ensue, would envelope in the 
same gloom the vale of humble life, and the sum- 
mits of human greatness. Blot it out, and the 
world would be condemned to revolve through the 
same ages of confusion and corruption, which pre- 
ceded the appearance of the Saviour. 

Christians, allow me to address to you a few 
words of exhortation, in relation to this subject, in 
which you are so deeply interested. 

1. In the first place, know on what foundation 
you stand. You may have a faith perhaps sum- 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 157 

cient for your own satisfaction ; but as you are not 
to live for yourselves alone in this world, so ought 
you not to believe for yourselves alone. The situa- 
tion of the world is such, that the cause of truth 
may suffer as much from your inability to defend 
it, as even from your open violation of its dictates. 
The time has now come when the gospel is not to 
be maintained by the bare authority of any man, 
how transcendent soever may be his understand- 
ing. The objections of the unbeliever are ready 
furnished to his hands ; the replies to these objec- 
tions are not to be learnt from every man's mouth. 
The gospel is not to be supported by saying that 
it was the faith of our ancestors, or that we have 
so found it in our catechism. If you are not rea- 
dy to give the true reasons for the hope that is in 
you, you stand upon an insecure foundation. The 
true foundation of the gospel, is in its truth as an 
historic fact. From this view of the question unbe- 
lievers have always shrunk ; and it is this which 
you should be best prepared to establish. If 
those who were the most interested to ascertain 
the miraculous facts of the gospel, can be shown to 
have believed them, we have every reason to be- 
lieve them ; and if these facts stand upon stronger 
grounds of probability than any other facts in his- 
tory, everything else of importance in Christianity 
follows. 

2. The more frequent and open are the en- 
croachments of infidelity, the more are you in dan- 
ger of wishing to conceal a faith, which your in- 



158 SERMON X. 

quiries have forced upon you, but of which you can- 
not be ashamed without the most alarming danger. 
You may be excellent men and good citizens, ex- 
emplary in your manners, and irreproachable in 
your conversation, and thus you will no doubt be 
respected ; bat not, my friends, in that character 
which you ought most of all to value, the character 
of a Christian. The world, not knowing upon what 
principles you act, will not ascribe your superior- 
ity to its true cause ; nay, they will account for it 
in any way rather than refer it to a principle of 
religious faith. Hence the propriety and duty of 
an open profession of your christian faith. If you 
neglect this, Christianity will gain nothing by your 
example, and society will hardly be made wiser or 
better by your means. But where the faith of 
Jesus is professed as the source of all that is good 
in your character, you give to the Saviour that 
homage which his gospel deserves, * and your 
light will shine before men, that they may glorify 
your Father w T ho is in heaven.' 

3. Remember that your superior knowledge 
and purer faith demand of you a purer practice, 
and a loftier sense of duty. The question ' What 
do ye more than others ?' is the most unanswera- 
ble in the whole circle of unbelief. It will be to 
no purpose that you can defend the gospel in your 
reasonings, if you betray it in your lives. Men 
will look to you, and with perfect justice, for a 
holy and a devotional temper. They will expect 
to see you more indifferent to this world, and more 



SOURCES OF INFIDELITY. 159 

interested in another, than themselves. They will 
look for a disinterested spirit of benevolence, and 
a superiority which everywhere discovers that you 
are influenced by principles of more than earthly 
origin and energy. 

Lastly, be not satisfied with having been once 
convinced of the truth of Christianity, but keep up 
your interest in it by constant and devout reading 
of the scriptures, and of such books as tend to in- 
terest you in their important truths. Let nothing 
divert you from the duty of prayer, for the sense 
of God's providence can in no other way be pre- 
served in all its strength. Consider everything 
in life as subordinate' to your religion. Surely if 
there is another life, everything must be subordi- 
nate, in the view of every sound mind. Let the 
children of this world give their whole attention 
to its perishing pleasures ; for so they ought, ac- 
cording to their principles. But you, Christians, 
children of light! heirs of immortality! look beyond 
this transitory scene of things, to that inheritance 
which is incorruptible, undefiled, and which fad- 
eth not away, the object not of sense, but of 
faith, reserved for you in heaven. 



SERMON XI 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 
Matthew, VI. 24. 

NO MAN CAN SERVE TWO MASTERS. 

This is one of those aphorisms full of meaning, 
in which the discourses of our Saviour abound, 
and with which he introduces his caution to his 
disciples against anxiety about their present ac- 
commodation. He represents the service of the 
world and the service of God, as two opposite 
states, incompatible with each other, and as no man 
can at the same time obey the commands of two 
masters, each of whom has a claim on his time 
and labor, so neither can we serve God and the 
world, for it is impossible to maintain such a di- 
vided state of our affections. The claims of the 
two masters will be perpetually interfering and we 
must prefer the interests of one to those of the 
other. 

The disciples must have felt the force of this il- 
lustration. The service of the gospel to which 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 161 

they were, called was absolutely incompatible, not 
merely with that excessive solicitude about the 
conveniences of life, which is always a sin, but 
even with the common care of their families and 
estates. It was in fact saying to them, If you en- 
list yourselves in the service of the Messiah, you 
must give up all ideas of accumulating wealth, and, 
forsaking all care and anxiety, devote yourselves 
to this new employment. But this is not merely a 
lesson to the apostles. The word Mammon is the 
name of a Syrian idol, supposed to preside over 
riches, and to this specific meaning of the word 
our Saviour undoubtedly refers in our text, where 
the false deity Mammon, is opposed to the true God. 

What then is the force of the aphorism in mod- 
ern language ? Is it not this, that no man must 
hope to divide his services between God and any 
other object of affection ? that the service of the 
Supreme Being demands supreme affection, or in 
other words, religion, if it exists at all, must exist 
as a prevalent governing principle ? The effect of 
this will be a consistent and uniform character, in 
which we may plainly perceive the influence of 
religious motives, and a principle of obedience to 
God. 

The subject of our discourse from these words, 
' no man can serve two masters,' is, the consisten- 
cy of the religious character. 

This subject, which is very plain in itself, is 
rendered difficult only by the perverse disposition 
of men to make this consistency of character sig- 
21 



162 SERMON XT. 

nify the same thing with perfection. Hence they 
attempt to elude the reproach of inconsistency, 
by saying, ' We know that we are not perfect ; per- 
fection is not the lot of humanity. 5 This is very 
true, but it is nothing to the charge. We com- 
plain of an habitual inconsistency of character in 
men who profess to be men of religion ; that they 
allow themselves in certain courses of life, and in 
uniform omissions of duty, which we maintain to 
be utterly incompatible with a prevailing sentiment 
of religious obedience. We perceive, in fact, that 
so far are they from earnestly striving after chris- 
tian perfection, their hearts are yet divided, and 
they spend their lives in poor attempts at recon- 
ciling their convictions with their practice, their 
real pursuits with their acknowledged obligations, 
their sins with their better resolutions. 

In other affairs we find no difficulty in under- 
standing the difference between consistency and 
perfection of character. When a man, slavishly 
devoted to the acquisition of riches, is guilty of 
an action of gross imprudence or extravagance, 
we are astonished at his inconsistency, because 
he acts against his governing principles ; but we 
consider it as no mitigation of the selfishness of his 
character. The very notion of christian perfec- 
tion, as a point to which we must be continually 
tending, but which we are not to expect to reach, 
completely excludes us from offering it as an ex- 
cuse for any of our miscarriages, because, if an 
excuse for any, it must be, from the very nature of 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 163 

the thing, an excuse for all. The subject, then, 
which we have in view at present, is not the invol- 
untary, or occasional defects of men who would be 
called religious, but their deliberate and habitual 
inconsistencies of conduct, which prove the abso- 
lute want of the religious principle, according to 
the maxim of our Saviour, that < no man can serve 
two masters.' 

We suppose ourselves to be now addressing 
those who retain in their hours of reflection, a 
belief more or less powerful, of the obligations of 
virtue and the truths of Christianity. They have 
not cast off all fear of God, and gone over delib- 
erately to the party of unbelievers, but they are 
not decided whom they will serve. They would 
be shocked at the imputation of irreligion ; yet 
they do not believe, or do not feel the inconsisten- 
cy between their principles and their practice, and 
they have very inadequate conceptions, I do not 
say of the perfection, but of the uniformity and 
congruity of the christian character. 

I. In the first place, it may be thought superflu- 
ous that we should rank in this class those incon- 
sistent men, who would substitute a sound faith 
for a holy and virtuous life ; for this is not the prev- 
alent mistake of the age. It is supposed that the 
days have gone by, in which everything was 
thought lawful for the orthodox believer, and that 
God would see no sin in the faithful. It is true, 
that this is not the place, nor is it perhaps the pe- 
riod, in which this error prevails. Christians have 



164 SERMON XL 

in general come to a better understanding of the 
language of scripture on the subject of faith, and 
it is universally acknowledged in words, if not in 
practice, that without personal holiness no man 
can see the Lord. 

There is still, however, a remnant of this error to 
be seen among those who secretly maintain that 
no life of piety and virtue is of any avail to salva- 
tion, unless it is accompanied with certain pecu- 
liar views of the doctrines of Christianity, and that 
an apparently habitual conformity to the laws of 
God, is only a show of doubtful and rotten fruit, 
unless the tree has grown in a particular direction, 
and the roots have been fed from consecrated foun- 
tains. This kind of Christianity prevails much in 
some places ; but it is not confined to any particular 
sects. We find persons among ourselves, particu- 
larly at the close of life, who are more anxious to 
die sound believers, than real penitents. And 
there is hardly any place where a stress is not laid 
on some peculiarities of faith, which would be 
much better placed on some points of practice. 
But as this is not the danger into which you, my 
hearers, are most likely to fall, I will observe, 

II. Secondly, on the opposite error of substi- 
tuting morality for religion, and supplanting faith 
by an unenlightened exaltation of virtue. It is 
surprising, that any who profess to believe in the 
truth and importance of the christian revelation, 
should undervalue the influence of faith in the 
doctrines of the gospel, in the formation of char- 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 165 

acter. Yet it is too plain that we are disposed 
to substitute amiable tempers in the place of virtue, 
and the regularity induced by habits of business, 
for religion. We need no stronger proof of this 
than the neglect which prevails, of impressing on 
the minds of children the great truths of religion, 
the fear of God and of a judgment to come, com- 
pared to the care which we manifest to establish 
them in life, and put them in a course of occupa- 
tion, which shall save them from the temporal ruin 
attendant on profligacy. Yet how are we to se- 
cure the characters of our children, if, trusting to 
their amiable dispositions, we take no care to give 
them principles, and leaving them exposed to all 
the temptations of a corrupt world, we think it of 
no consequence how or when they get their reli- 
gion, and imagine that if they stand well with 
society, they may do well enough without Chris- 
tianity? This is an inconsistency, which in a 
christian parent is irreconcilable with his own 
persuasions, and with a religious character. It 
proves that his own faith is dead, that it is not the 
root and support of his integrity, that he feels 
not the worth of his religion, and of course that 
he lives not by it. Men have declaimed loudly 
against the evils of superstition, and the dangers 
of implicit faith. Let us be on our guard against 
the vain expectation that a character thoroughly 
virtuous, and faithful towards God and man, is to 
be supported by any consideration of present con- 
venience, honor, and profit, without the aid of the 
motives of religion. 



1 66 SERMON XL 

III. We discover other proofs of inconsistency 
in the reliance which is sometimes placed on the 
positive institutions of Christianity, as a species of 
compensation for not leading a life uniformly virtu- 
ous, or for indulging a temper not sanctified by 
the prevailing influence of religion. There is 
scarcely any Christian who will openly acknow- 
ledge that he indulges the hope of making a com- 
pensation for a negligent and dissipated course of 
life, by observing with punctuality the returns of 
the ordinance of the supper. Yet, if we mistake 
not, there are some, who feel little of the universal 
obligation to a holy life, who yet place much con- 
fidence in their distinction as communicants, and 
by their strict attention to these days, in prefer- 
ence to the other returns of public worship, inti- 
mate, that they look upon this ordinance, not 
merely as a duty and a privilege, but as something 
also of a security. 

IV. But it may be thought that the opposite 
character, which we are now, in the fourth place, 
to describe, is much more common in our times. 
There is no doubt a prevailing disposition to rep- 
resent the positive institutions of our religion, as 
a class of duties much below the obligations of 
morality. 

And, let it be remembered, that by morality is 
commonly meant merely the social obligations 
which exist between men in society ; mercy, be- 
neficence, courteousness, and honorable conduct. 
If the duties of piety are taken into the account, 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. ] 67 

they are passed over with the remark, that they 
are affairs between God and a man's conscience, 
and that a good life is the best worship. This is 
very true ; yet men are often much mistaken in 
the essential properties of a good character. It 
is, I fear, too often taken for granted that a serious 
attention to the duties and forms of religion, throws 
a suspicion on the other parts of a good character, 
and that there must be a little hypocrisy where 
there is much appearance of religion. It may be 
left to the serious and candid judgment" of every 
thinking man, whether a faithful observance of 
the forms of religion and the ordinances of Chris- 
tianity, is not more usually connected with a virtu- 
ous and upright conduct in the affairs of common 
life, than with the opposite character. How un- 
fair is it then, to put in a claim to respect, and 
confidence, and honor from the world, because 
you profess to undervalue the ordinances of reli- 
gion, and to say in fact to the religious man, Stand 
by, thou mayst be holier, but I am better than thou ! 
But is not this strange inversion of spiritual pride 
sometimes to be discerned in men, who set at 
nought the forms of religion ? If, my hearers, we 
cannot serve two masters, but must either love the 
one and hate the other, or hold to the one and 
despise the other, whom must those be said to 
serve who devote days and weeks and years to the 
business and pleasures of the world ; who, in the 
pursuit of gain and the varieties of endless dissi- 
pation, are never weary, never reluctant, never 



168 SERMON XI. 

prepared with an excuse, whilst they grudge every 
hour which they devote to the exercises of reli- 
gion ; and this too with the plea, that God looks 
not at the outward appearance, but at the heart, 
that he will have morals, not ceremonies, mercy, 
and not sacrifice ? Gracious God ! to whom do 
they sacrifice ? Nay, where do they sacrifice ? 
They think, indeed, with truth, that worship is not 
more acceptable to God on one day than on 
another. But would he, who is disposed to worship 
God at all, think that he could possibly serve the 
cause of real religion in opposition to superstition, 
by his neglect of the most favorable opportunity 
for it, which this day always affords ? It is true 
there is a perpetual tendency in men to rest in the 
means of religion rather than to keep in view the 
end ; but neither virtue, piety, happiness, security, 
nor anything valuable to man, can be promoted 
by attempting to secure the end, without the 
means. 'My son, give me thy heart,' is the tender 
invitation of our Father in heaven. But has he 
given his heart, who excuses himself from the ra- 
tional services of religion by pretences which he 
would not dare to offer in the common business of 
life, and for reasons which never detain him from 
his pleasures, and would have no force with him 
in any case where his ruling passion was engag- 
ed ? 

In the last place, we observe the inconsistency 
which we have been condemning, in that partial 
obedience we are contented to pay to the com- 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 169 

mands of God, and in the various compensations 
and comparisons we make between one duty or 
disposition and another, both in our estimate of 
our own characters, and the characters of others. 
Thus, the avaricious and hard-hearted comfort 
themselves with the consciousness of their honesty, 
and with the plea that they are never guilty of ex- 
travagance, improvidence, luxury, or dissipation. 
The man of pleasure boasts of his charities, his 
frankness, his freedom from sordid and narrow- 
minded vices ; and not only so, he looks with con- 
tempt on his frugal and regular neighbour. The 
man who has amassed a great estate by fraudulent 
means, will attempt to make an atonement for his 
former life by some occasional acts of pious muni- 
ficence. In some circles beneficence has the pre- 
ference ; in others, commercial integrity ; in 
others, fidelity in friendship ; in others, religious 
zeal. We select from the universal obligations of 
morality, those in which we think ourselves least 
deficient, and look with complacency through the 
glass which is colored with our favorite hue. 

This character of inconsistency, is totally dis- 
tinct from that of the weak and imperfect Chris- 
tian, whose strong passions occasionally surprise 
him into acts of which he repents, or who is sen- 
sible of the imperfection of his best services, not- 
withstanding his daily endeavours after improve- 
ment. 

My friends, it becomes us most seriously to re- 
member that the habitual and deliberate neglect 
22 



170 SERMON XL 

of a single commandment, implies a disposition of 
revolt, of rebellion, and of resistance, totally in- 
consistent with a religious character. It implies 
that all our pretences of reverence for our Maker 
are hollow and dissembling ; it implies that we 
practise upon ourselves delusions the most gross, 
when we imagine that the observance of one law, 
will atone for the violation of another ; that a man 
may be charitable without being just, or just with- 
out being charitable ; honorable without being 
pious, or pious without being honorable ; sober 
without being chaste, punctilious without being 
exact, or generous without prudence and choice ; 
zealous without being candid, or candid because 
indifferent and careless ; ceremoniously exact 
without being pure within, or so pure within as to 
despise any aid from without. 

When a sincere principle of universal obedience 
is wanting, the defect will infallibly be seen in some 
portion of the character, or some period of the 
life. In the goodly superstructure of such a man's 
morals there will be found some flaw, which be- 
trays the insecurity of the foundation. There is 
nothing which renders a man's real virtue more 
suspicious, than to find him professing to be im- 
maculate in those portions of his character where 
he has no temptation to transgress. You have no 
right to thank God that you are not as other men, 
because, while your neighbour is intemperate, you 
have no temptation to become drunkards ; while 
your superiors are proud, you are only envious of 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 171 

their high station ; while your friend's family is 
extravagant, yours is only churlish ; while your vi- 
cinity is full of dissipation, your own household is 
employed in calumniating their characters and 
conduct. Hence, however extravagant the asser- 
tion may appear, we may admit, in its most literal 
meaning, the declaration of the apostle, ' that he 
who offends in one point, is guilty of all.' The 
presumption is, that all your show of virtue is only 
a disguised, but perpetual violation of the only true 
principle of christian virtue, obedience to the will 
of God. 

When you appear therefore to reform and only 
change your forms of disobedience, all that can be 
admitted in your favor, is, that you have not been, 
through the whole course of your life, the regular 
slave of any inveterate habit. In your abundance, 
you have not been guilty of the low frauds of indi- 
gence, and in your poverty you have not discover- 
ed the haughtiness of security. In adversity you 
have not abandoned yourself to presumptuousness ; 
in prosperity you have not murmured and repined. 
In youth you have not exhibited the faults of age, 
and in age you have not retained the follies of 
youth. Wonderful proficiency in the spirit of a 
Christian ! 

My friends, it is impossible for any man who has 
a proper sense of the consistency and uniformity 
of the religious character, to allow himself in such 
comparisons. He hopes that God, who knows his 
temptations and trials, will make a gracious allow- 



172 SERMON XL 

ance for his peculiar defects ; but as for himself, he 
makes no allowance. He struggles most against 
the sins to which he is most exposed ; sensible, 
' that whosoever offendeth in one point is guilty of 
all,' and that he is not a real Christian, who allows 
himself deliberately in any course of omission or 
commission, which he has reason to think God's 
will requires. 

Of the same kind are those inconsistencies 
which we see in men, who substitute a temporary 
for a regular obedience. Some men have seasons 
of tenderness and compunction. They make re- 
solutions, the effect of which lasts through a period 
either of affliction, anxiety, or bereavement, but 
they relapse into their former courses, and attempt 
to derive merit from their temporary reformation. 
There are others, who are afraid of great sins, and 
behave well in any very important crisis of life, 
whose habitual temper is unamiable and unchris- 
tian. Most men can do right when the eyes of the 
world are invited to observe them. They then de- 
cide nobly, righteously, and generously ; but would 
you know whether they have the spirit and power 
of religion, follow them to their families, to the 
minute and trivial concerns of life, and then you 
may learn best their true worth and their real 
defects. 

But this subject is extremely copious and I must 
forbear any further remarks. 

My hearers, I have thus endeavoured, from the 
solemn words of our Saviour, < no man can serve 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. 173 

two masters,' to give you some idea of the consis- 
tency and uniformity of the christian character, 
and to correct that common evasion, with which 
we so often delude ourselves, that perfection is 
not the lot of humanity. Perfection and consis- 
tency are two different attainments. The former 
is the point to which we must be continually aim- 
ing, the other is that which we must have reached, 
before we can lay claim to the character of real 
Christians. The distinction is sufficiently obvious. 
The perfect Christian is one who never sins ; the 
consistent Christian is one who allows himself in 
no sin, but being governed supremely by the prin- 
ciples of his religion, grows in grace and know- 
ledge, and by a diligent use of the means of re- 
ligion, advances steadily in the divine life. 

My hearers, we have a great work before us, and 
a day of trial and retribution awaits us. He who 
is seriously engaged in this great work, cannot 
hope to be received and accepted by his God, un- 
less he has given him his heart. < No man can 
serve two masters; choose you then this day whom 
you will serve.' For behold the time is coming 
when he who deserves all we can give him of af- 
fection and obedience, will appear as our judge. 
Then many will come, saying, Lord, have we not 
passed through life with reputable characters ? 
We have not outraged thine authority, nor failed 
to respect the forms of thy religion. Then will 
he say unto them, Ye have had no faith in my 



174 SERMON XI. 

name, no fear of God before your eyes, but ye 
have lo ed the praise of men more than the praise 
of God ; verily I say unto you, ye have had your 
reward. 

Then will others come, saying, Lord, thou de- 
sirest not sacrifice, else would we give it ; we have 
not paid the tithe of mint, anise, and cummin ; but 
we have observed the weightier matters of the 
law, judgment, mercy and fidelity. Then will the 
Judge answer and say unto them, These ought ye 
to have done, and not to leave the others undone. 
Ye have said, 'What is the Almighty that we 
should serve him, and what profit should we have, 
if we pray unto him ? ' I know you that ye have not 
the love of God in you. 

Then others will come saying, Lord, behold 
our charities. When I saw the hungry, I fed them ; 
the sick, and in prison, I visited them ; I have ab- 
stained from all appearance of evil. Behold my 
frequent resolutions, my public sacrifices, my zeal 
for thy cause ; my care of my family ; my humility, 
poverty, or my reputation and my friends. Then 
will the King answer and say to one, I know thy 
works, thou hast a name that thou livest, and art 
dead. To another, Pure religion before God the 
Father, is not only to visit the fatherless and wi- 
dows, but to keep thyself unspotted from the 
world. To another, What shall I do unto thee, for 
thy goodness is as the morning cloud and the even- 
ing dew, which soon passeth away. To another, 



CONSISTENCY IN RELIGION. ] 75 

To whom much has been given, of him much will 
be required. 

Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for 
such things, what manner of persons ought ye to be 
in all holy conversation and godliness ? 



SERMON XII 



THE INADEQUACY OF THE PREVAILING CONCEPTIONS AS TO 
THE EXTENT OF THE DIVINE LAW, COMPARED WITH THE 
MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 



Psalms, CXIX. 96. 

THY COMMANDMENT IS EXCEEDING BROAD. 

I have seen, says the Psalmist, an end of all 
perfection ; the glory of human greatness vanish- 
es ; the objects of human pursuit disappoint us ; 
the wonders of nature and art decay ; and what we 
call moral perfection, as it is exhibited in human 
character, is either frail, defective, or delusive ; 
but thy commandment, O God, is exceeding broad. 

The opposition between the two parallel por- 
tions of the verse may not at first be understood. 
The meaning undoubtedly is, of that which is per- 
fect in human estimation we soon find a limit, but 
the wisdom and perfection of thy law, who can 
represent ? This comprehensive law of goodness, 
which appeared to the Psalmist so exceeding 
broad, is more clearly defined and illustrated in the 
New Testament ; and if there were nothing else 
to prove the divine origin of Christ's religion, the 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 177 

very nature of his moral precepts would perhaps 
be sufficient. Of the evangelical morality it may 
be truly said, that it cannot be improved. The 
world had before known nothing like it, as a whole, 
and it would be perhaps impossible to collect all 
its precepts, even if we were permitted to search, 
and select here and there a maxim or a sentiment 
from all the works of the ancients. It is distin- 
guished for the grandeur and efficacy of its sanc- 
tions, which lay hold on eternity to come ; for the 
restraints which it lays on the heart, the source of 
action, and for its elevating, purifying, and spirit- 
ualizing influence. In short, the instructions of 
Christ partake of the divinity of their author ; the 
spirit, which descended like a dove, and rested 
upon him, breathes in every line which he has 
left us. 

When we consider the vast extent of the chris- 
tian morality, and compare it with the inadequate 
conceptions of duty entertained by many Chris- 
tians, it may be well thought surprising that we 
should have discovered so much more solicitude 
to erect standards of faith, than standards of prac- 
tice. We have guarded the articles of our belief 
against invasion or evasion, by every possible bar- 
rier, and have considered the church in danger 
when the perfection of these formularies has been 
doubted or denied. But no church has thought it 
equally necessary to take care of its system of du- 
ties. Diversity of sentiment on the subject of 
practice, has been thought a less dangerous heresy, 
23 



178 SERMON XTL 

and a church cannot be shown in ecclesiastical 
history, which has established a creed in morals. 

Whence this strange inconsistency in our zeal ? 
Is it because the intentions of scripture are more 
plain on this subject than on articles of faith ? Or 
is it because our love of power is more flattered 
by subjecting other men to the standard of our 
speculations, than by guarding them from mistak- 
ing their duty ? 

Whatever answer may be given to these ques- 
tions, I think no man, who makes the scriptures 
his study, need be more surprised or concerned at 
the variety of doctrines which men have attempted 
to draw from them, than at the imperfect notions 
which still exist on the subject of duty. The 
cause of this diversity is to be sought, not in the 
obscurity of our Saviour's precepts, for in general 
their spirit cannot be mistaken, but in our igno- 
rance of ourselves, in our slavish subjection to 
custom and fashion, in our thoughtless lives, and 
above all, in the great reluctance which every man 
feels to suffer the standard of duty to be raised 
much higher than the point to which he has him- 
self attained. 

I shall devote this discourse to an inquiry into 
the inadequate conceptions which prevail as to the 
extent of the divine law. The subject naturally 
divides itself into the four grand points of justice, 
benevolence, purity, and piety. We shall consider 
the prevailng defects of our moral sentiments on 
each of these branches of the christian law. 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 179 

I. Upon the subject then of justice, upon which, 
if on any branch of morals, we may suppose men to 
entertain accurate ideas, because it is intimately 
connected with all their business, and with all their 
labors, it will be found that few of us have either 
very exact, comprehensive, or evangelical con- 
ceptions. 

It is a general sentiment in society, that if a 
man of business observes a common honesty in his 
negotiations ; if he is true to his word, faithful in 
his engagements, and punctual in his appoint- 
ments, it is not only as much as we, but as God 
has a right to expect. Instances of deliberate, 
high-handed fraud, excite, it is true, a temporary 
indignation ; but the awakened sensibility too soon 
subsides ; the knowledge of successful dishonesty 
seems rather to prepare us better for the next exam- 
ple ; and often is the most deliberate injustice cov- 
ered over at last by forms and the show of prece- 
dent, and men consent to enjoy all their lives the 
fruits of the very wickedness they have execrated. 

But after all, my friends, is the bare observance 
of the laws, in commercial transactions, the extent 
of the christian duty of justice ? There is a sense 
of equity in a man of christian principles, which 
mere law cannot prescribe, and to which custom 
does not always reach. There is a sense of right, 
which can neither be inspired nor supported by a 
common regard to reputation ; and a high sense 
of duty, which asks only the eye of God for its 
witness and reward. 



1 80 SERMON XII. 

What do we think, also, of the great duty of 
restitution, in innumerable cases which the laws 
and customs of society hardly contemplate ? If 
we have either designedly or undesignedly wrong- 
ed our brother, it is our duty to make him com- 
pensation, even in cases where he is ignorant of 
his loss, in others where he does not demand it, 
in many where he cannot require it by any positive 
compact, and in many more where there is no 
common tribunal to which we may appeal, to de- 
cide the proper measure of retribution. 

There are some cases of inquiry known only to 
God and ourselves ; there are others, where the 
world would smile at us if we felt bound to redress 
them. There are cases in which, though we are 
entirely guiltless in the sight of God, yet we may 
become guilty by withholding that compensation, 
which nothing but a tender conscience, or if you 
choose to call it so, a delicate sense of honor, 
knows how to estimate. 

Again ; are there not some who venture to pro- 
pagate, or, at least, not to contradict a false report, 
by which, for the sake of gain, they may practise 
on the credulity of the public ? Are there not 
those who will encounter risks, undertake adven- 
tures, and hazard speculations, to which their 
means are entirely inadequate ? and this, too, with 
the prospect before them, not merely of their own 
ruin, but of the ruin of others, to whose kindness 
they have been indebted, and whose interests they 
have no right to endanger ? 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. ] g \ 

But there is another more extensive branch of 
justice upon which there prevails an astonishing 
insensibility in the minds even of honest men. I 
mean justice to the reputation of others. We en- 
joy the benefits of society only on condition of 
preserving its rights, and in every civilized coun- 
try justice is due to every man's character, wheth- 
er we are his friend or his enemy. We are not 
only to render tribute to whom tribute, but honor 
to whom honor is due. Every man has a right to 
our good opinion, till he has forfeited it. Every 
man has a right to have his character as invio- 
late as his property, even when he cannot protect 
it by positive laws. Whatever be the principles 
which he is supposed to entertain, the amount of 
his importance in society, or the relation in which 
he stands to ourselves, he has a demand of justice 
to his character from every individual in the com- 
munity. I speak not now of charity, but of justice. 
He has a right to expect that no doubtful or ma- 
licious insinuations should obtain that currency 
which is often given them in inconsiderate con- 
versation. For, not only are we injurious by the 
direct propagation of unjust reports, but we have 
not even a right to give them countenance in our 
more private and confidential intercourse. Nay, 
more ; the sufferer, whatever be his rank or con- 
sequence, has a right to demand of us that we do 
him not the injustice to be predisposed to believe 
them. We see then that this extensive law of 
justice, has a bearing on the estimates which we 



Jg2 SERMON XII. 

secretly form of the characters of others. We are 
really unjust, when we suffer any unfounded pre- 
judice to obscure our sense of another's merits. 
We are unjust, when we conceal the good quali- 
ties of an enemy or a rival ; or when we labor 
to put an unfavorable construction on his appa- 
rent excellences. In this view of the extensive 
justice which we owe to each other, how are our 
daily offences multiplied ! How often do cruel 
calumnies circulate among us, wasting the reputa- 
tion of men, when they are entirely ignorant, and 
entirely undeserving of their loss ! How often do 
we refuse men the least share in our estimation, 
for no other reason than because they do not be- 
long to our circle, or follow in our train! How 
careless are we of retrieving the mischiefs we have 
done to others by our inconsideration, and how 
slow are we to remove the false impressions which 
we have undesignedly given ! 

Again ; it should not be forgotten that gratitude 
is also a part of justice, and that we should be as 
scrupulous of rendering kindness for kindness, as 
of discharging our just debts or of securing our 
lawful dues. On the other hand, do I exaggerate 
the state of opinion when I say, that our notions 
of the extent of the divine law are so defective, 
that we are ready to think that fraud will author- 
ise fraud, deception merit deception, and neg- 
lect give room for neglect and calumny? We 
have only to turn our thoughts upon our own con- 
sciences to find how inadequate is our sense of 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. j 83 

justice, and how narrow the common definitions of 
honesty. Thy commandment, O God, is exceeding 
broad ; thy justice reacheth unto the clouds. 

II. The second great article of morals, upon 
which our conceptions are much more imperfect 
than they ought to be, is the duty of benevolence. 
This is a branch of duty more easy to praise than 
to practise ; and not only so, it is a portion of 
character, in which we are most sensible to the de- 
fects of others, and most exorbitant in our de- 
mands upon those who have it in their power to 
be more beneficent, than ourselves. And yet, not- 
withstanding all this sensibility upon the subject 
of benevolence, though it is the topic of univer- 
sal praises, the virtue upon which men who have 
no other, are most disposed to descant ; and 
though it is no less the subject of our Saviour's 
instructions, than of the popular philosophy, per- 
haps we shall be found upon examination, to en- 
tertain very inadequate ideas of its real obliga- 
tions. 

The commandment of doing to others as we 
would have them do to us, is exceeding broad. 
Let us compare it, not with the practice of man- 
kind, but with the prevailing maxims, which we 
frequently hear in society. Thus he may pass for 
a benevolent man, who relieves the poor when they 
importune him, who contributes his share to a 
popular subscription, who takes care of his desti- 
tute relations, and provides perhaps for some who 
have no claims upon his kindness, except the 



]34 SERMON XII. 

common rights of humanity in distress. It is a 
common observation with those, who would be 
shocked to be thought deficient in benevolence, 
6 that charity begins at home.' True, it does ; 
but there it never terminates. It is the quality of 
true benevolence to expand itself constantly, and 
when it is contracted by necessity into a smaller 
circle, it suffers a compression, which gives the 
spirit of doing good a greater vigor. 

The great defect in our conceptions of benev- 
olence, is, that we confine it too much to the duty 
of alms-giving, or pecuniary bounty. Bounty to 
the poor will neither atone for the iniquitous ac- 
quisition of wealth, nor excuse us from the neces- 
sity of cultivating an habitual disposition of benev- 
olence. Occasional or long continued attention 
to particular persons, will not atone for a constant 
churlishness of temper to others, nor will it com- 
pensate for a hard, unyielding character in busi- 
ness, or for an habitual selfishness and cool neg- 
lect of others' accommodation. 

The notions which the apostles entertained of 
this virtue, we find in the address of Peter to the 
man at the porch of the temple, before he healed 
him. ' Silver and gold have I none, but such as I 
have, give I unto thee.' There is hardly anything 
which in some cases more clearly evinces a defect 
of benevolence, than the giving of money, when 
it is done to silence importunity, or to excuse us 
from the trouble of ascertaining the real wants of 
the distressed and the best mode of relieving 
them. 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 1 85 

We see in the life of our blessed Lord, who had 
no earthly possessions, the spirit of doing good, 
in all its activity and extent. You, who have 
so much in your power to do, have you ever 
thought of this bright example of generosity with- 
out almsgiving, relief without money, effectual be- 
nevolence without influence, character, or reputa- 
tion, and can you think that the christian law of 
benevolence is completely answered by the giving 
of alms? If I maybe permitted to inquire into 
your practical persuasions upon this subject, I 
would ask you, in the first place, is beneficence 
truly agreeable to you ? Is it your meat and your 
drink to cooperate with your Father in heaven in 
the grand object of human happiness? Are not 
your benefactions sometimes extorted from you 
through fear of shame, or are you often grieved 
that you cannot do more ? Are you satisfied from 
year to year with a particular measure of doing 
good, though your means in the mean time may 
have prodigiously increased, and your power of 
serving mankind have evidently extended ? 

Again ; have you a practical persuasion of your 
duty to others as a man of influence, knowledge, 
power, and notoriety, as well as wealth ? Do you 
consider how much you ought to surrender of your 
personal accommodation to the welfare of others ? 
that many, whom your bounty would not profit, 
your knowledge may assist, your advice may 
save, your encouragement may stimulate, your pat- 
ronage may establish, your praises may inspire, 
24 



186 SERMON XII. 

your example may incalculably serve ? Have you 
considered that it is a duty of benevolence, not 
merely to lend your good offices when they are so- 
licited, but to anticipate applications, to meet the 
advances of the timid, to inquire into the circum- 
stances of the distressed, and to rejoice as much 
in any newly discovered opportunity of doing good 
as in a new acquisition ? Have you considered 
that he who is not active in his benevolence, who 
imparts only what is obtained from him by direct 
application, is of all men the most prejudicial to 
the growth of a spirit of benevolence, because 
he gains the character of a benevolent man, with- 
out imparting any of the spirit of that blessed 
quality ? Such a man gives no life to the generos- 
ity of the community ; he does no more good than 
the precise amount of his benefaction produces. 

Again ; the great law of christian benevolence 
includes every object within its reach, enemies, 
not less than friends, the distant as well as the 
near ; strangers as well as familiar acquaintance. 
It does not suffer us to give them up, when many 
are willing to retire and be forgotten. Christian 
benevolence forbids our adopting the common 
profession. Though such an one is my enemy, I 
would relieve him from distress if he came in my 
way, but it requires every man to seek for recon- 
ciliation where he has any hope of obtaining it ; to 
rejoice in all the happiness which he sees inno- 
cently enjoyed by his enemies ; to contribute his 
share to the comfort and good humor of society, 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 187 

even when his vanity is sometimes mortified, and 
his feelings wounded. In short, it is every man's 
duty to consider how much more is necessary to 
benevolence than mere bounty or compassion, 
and that the good will which will make no sacri- 
fice, is little more than a reputable selfishness. 

Finally, my friends, is that a genuine spirit of 
benevolence which does not extend itself to the 
source of all the misery in the world, and evinces 
no interest in the moral condition and everlasting 
welfare of others ? Does the law of christian be- 
nevolence allow us to be satisfied with relieving 
misery, when we take no pains to prevent vice ? 
Has he any claim to the character of a man of 
real benevolence, who encourages, by his exam- 
ple or his neglect, that depravity in the communi- 
ty which terminates at last in the very distress 
which he is prompt to relieve ? Can any sympa- 
thy with affliction, any nobleness of temper, any 
boasted instances of generosity, any instinct of 
kindness, atone for an indifference to the moral 
and religious character of those with whom we 
are connected, or for habits of vice, which destroy 
all that is valuable in human life ? Talk not, then, 
my friends, of benevolence without principle, of 
compassion which has no object but that of reliev- 
ing visible distress, of a generous temper, which has 
no feeling for the depravity and crimes of mankind. 
That is not benevolence, which will make no sac- 
rifices for the general good. The benevolence of 
the gospel is active as well as passive, compre- 
hensive, pure, peaceful, and gentle. 



188 SERMON XII. 

III. The next branch of christian virtue which 
we shall consider, is the great law of purity ; not 
because we imagine it to be that which is most 
frequently transgressed, but because it is one 
which is very seldom treated with the seriousness 
it deserves. Pure religion and undefiled before 
God and the Father, is, not only to visit the father- 
less and widows in their affliction, but to keep 
one's self unspotted from the world. Blessed are 
the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 

From these expressions you cannot fail to un- 
derstand, that purity does not consist merely in 
laying a restraint here and there, where we are 
most exposed, nor in avoiding some disreputable 
spots of character; but purity of heart is that 
white robe which envelopes all the virtues of the 
character, a robe so white and delicate that it may 
be stained no less easily from within than from 
without. 

But before we consider the extent of this law 
of purity, let us express our grief and astonish- 
ment, that any should be found in a christian com- 
munity, and professing to regard the gospel as their 
rule of morals, who yet, in making up their judg- 
ment, or in regulating their treatment of others, 
hardly take the consideration of purity into their 
estimate of character. With all our professions 
of Christianity, we have yet chosen, against the very 
spirit and letter of God's laws, to make an unau- 
thorised distinction between sins, which may be 
practised with and without the loss of reputation. 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 189 

Are there not sins, which, if God is true, will cast 
a man away from his presence, which yet are far 
from shutting him out of the esteem of man ? 

Of that infinite variety of characters of which 
society is composed, one of the most common is 
that of the man who allows himself in a single 
favorite vice. He finds that there are sins which 
he may practise with security in secret, and that 
even if they are known within his favorite circle, 
he loses nothing of his good estimation. There, 
if indeed any excuse is expected of him, he does 
not deny his constitutional infirmity ; to the better 
part of society he is willing to atone for it in some 
other way. To himself he pleads the force of 
temptation, or even of habit ; yet he will take 
care to be as inoffensive, and always as honorable 
as possible in his indulgences. Perhaps he even 
ventures to think that he does no injury to society, 
that his character, on the whole, is not materially 
defective. Does he ever think of God ? Perhaps, 
even God will not be strict in condemning me ! 

On the whole, he is entirely persuaded that he is 
not worse than the majority ; nay, he is inclined 
to believe that, with this single exception, as he 
dares to regard it, he is a better man than his 
more conscientious neighbour, who, without any 
visible criminality, is certainly not so amiable, nor 
so generous, nor so honorable as himself. Men of 
this character are sometimes capable of acts of 
great generosity, resorting to beneficence as a 
species of equivalent for a strictly pure and vir- 



190 SERMON XII. 

tuous life ; as if they could indulge a favorite sin, 
at the price of practising a virtue, which in its 
common acceptation is the least difficult and the 
most popular of all the virtues. 

In the character we have now drawn, we find 
the danger of taking our estimate of any from the 
maxims of the world. To men of this description 
what is that language of the gospel, which we 
presume they are not yet hardy enough to disdain? 
What is the language of that strict reason, which, 
if they hear not from their consciences, they must 
hear at last from their Judge ? ' He that keeps 
the whole law, and yet offends in one point, is 
guilty of all.' He has no true principle of virtue, 
no sincere obedience to the will of God. His 
fair show of popular qualities is a show of rotten 
fruit. In the sight of God he is radically corrupt. 
He is criminal, he is in the path to ruin, though, 
in his own estimation, he has narrowed it to a 
single sin. He is surely working out his own de- 
struction, though singly, secretly, and honorably. 
The world kindly calls him his own enemy ; he is 
not only his own enemy, he is man's, he is God's ; 
because he is attempting a union of irreconcila- 
ble qualities, of virtues and vices which the day 
of retribution will show him that even God's om- 
nipotence cannot reconcile. 

My christian hearers, remember this. The man 
who, in the language of the w T orld, has only one 
vice but many virtues, has, in religious strictness, 
no virtues at all. Do not misunderstand. The 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 191 

man who deliberately allows himself in any sin 
which God, and reason, and Christianity disallow, 
has in fact no true and sincere principles. He 
may possess some amiable dispositions, but really 
he has no morals. However the thoughtless or 
the irreligious world may excuse or flatter him, 
as a man of an excellent heart, because, instead 
of being guilty of theft or fraud or some other 
unpopular crime, he only happens to be the slave 
of a more fashionable vice; in the sight of God, 
these distinctions are neither made nor admitted ; 
and would to God, they were never admitted in 
society ! 

If we proceed to inquire into the notions of pu- 
rity, which are entertained by men who do not 
allow themselves in habitual transgressions of pos- 
itive laws, I fear we shall find much indistinctness. 
It is impossible to avoid this conclusion, where we 
observe, as we sometimes may* that the tongue 
will take a license denied to the actions. Let us 
follow out our train of thoughts, and we shall of- 
ten find them traversing ground which is danger- 
rous or corrupting. There is no sin in this, if 
these thoughts are not encouraged, if they are 
banished and never recalled. But is it true, that 
any great compunction ever follows these wander- 
ings of the fancy, which are often the beginnings 
of irretrievable disorder ? What notions can they 
have of the obligations of purity, who will expose 
themselves to temptations, because they can easily 
resist them ? What notions of purity can they 



192 SERMON XII. 

have, who will not only drink in themselves, but 
proffer to others, the poison of licentious thoughts, 
and think that all is well ? From this low sense 
of purity, which satisfies the world, we turn to the 
gospel of Christ, that we may breathe a purer air. 
Now, in the view of Jesus, the opposite of purity 
is every species of internal defilement. In his 
gospel, we learn that out of the heart proceed evil 
thoughts, adulteries, fornications, an evil eye, blas- 
phemy, pride, foolishness. There we find that the 
seat of impurity is in the affections, and till these 
are purified, the inner chambers of the mind re- 
main the scene of vices of which the world knows 
nothing. There we learn, that the same control 
of the actions is not only insufficient, but that it 
has been always unsuccessful. There, too, we un- 
derstand that the principal design of our Saviour's 
exhortations on the subject of purity, is, to direct 
our attention to the thoughts, in contradistinction 
to the actions, which are external. It is only when 
we think of this, that we can understand the full 
force of such injunctions as these ; ' Purify your- 
selves from all corruptions of the flesh and spirit ; 
even as Christ our Lord is pure ; ' ' Crucify the 
old man, and put on the new man, in righteous- 
ness and true holiness, and your hearts shall be 
the temple of the Holy Spirit.' We can under- 
stand by these expressions, however metaphorical, 
nothing less than this, that the heart must be di- 
vested of all those inclinations, which, whether 
they break out into action or not, are inconsistent 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 193 

with that purity, of which our Saviour has left us an 
example, and to preserve which we are solemnly 
enjoined. 

Among the innumerable proofs of the divinity of 
everything relating to Jesus and Christianity, the 
stress laid upon the regulation of the thoughts, is 
admirable and peculiar. With our Saviour, and 
with him only, thought is everything. He knew 
what was in man ; and he does not merely recom- 
mend this restraint, or propose it as a greater de- 
gree of perfection, but he declares it in the very 
first instance essential. Therefore, keep thy heart 
with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of 
life. 

IV. The fourth division now remains, in which 
we proposed to examine some of the prevailing 
notions with regard to piety, not with a view of 
showing the want of it in the world, but of cor- 
recting the notions which are entertained of this 
branch of christian duty. 

By piety is here meant, not the whole of a 
christian character, sometimes expressed by the 
word godliness, but that branch of duty which has 
God more immediately for its object. It is, un- 
doubtedly, not only a duty, but of all duty the most 
valuable part. For that disposition towards God, 
which leads to the performance of all other duties, 
is not only necessary to the perfection, but even to 
the existence of steadfast virtue and christian mo- 
rality. 

25 



194 SERMON XII. 

There are those who have no reference in their 
conduct to God's will, no affections of which God 
is the object. No man can doubt this, who consid- 
ers that among the higher classes, the law of 
honor has in many cases superseded the law of 
God ; and there are thousands, who, when they 
think at all of the moral character of their actions, 
ask no other question than, How will this appear, 
what will be thought of it ? A great portion of 
those in humble life, derive their moral ideas from 
the law of the land ; and with them, that is right 
which does not expose them to punishment. 
There is however another class of refined and de- 
licate spirits of great sensibility, who seem to have 
a love of virtue, enough at least to furnish out a 
declamation, whose notion of it seems at last to 
resolve itself into a refined sentiment or taste ; 
and there is a still more numerous and reflecting 
class of those who reduce all their duty into pre- 
sent utility, and attempt to build up a system of 
morals, unconnected with religion, and without 
reference to the will of God. 

But we must be more particular. In the first 
place, it cannot fail to have been remarked by 
you, that there are many very reputable and hon- 
est men, who do not consider the duties of piety 
as essential parts of a good character. Now, 
if we admit that there is a God who made 
us and supports us, and if we admit, too, that 
man is capable of knowing, serving, and loving 
this God, it must appear to every man who thinks, 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 195 

that he must be a monster, who has no sentiments 
of piety. You cannot but acknowledge, that where 
the greatest excellence exists, the highest venera- 
tion is due ; and that to him to whom we are most 
obliged, and on whom we are most dependent, we 
owe the highest gratitude and reverence. We 
are moral and rational creatures ; and constituted 
as we are, what can be proved to be a duty, if this 
cannot, that we should cultivate the best affec- 
tions towards God, reverencing him as the great- 
est, submitting to him as the wisest, loving and 
imitating him as the best of beings ? But this is 
piety. And yet there are men, who consider piety 
as not essential to a good character. Suppose we 
should choose to say that love and obedience to 
parents were no part of morals, and that a man 
might be a very good man, who neglected and 
disobeyed the authors of his existence. Now this 
would be an inconsiderable error compared with 
the other, inasmuch as God is everything to us, 
and all our other obligations are united and com- 
bined in our duty to him. We object not to moral- 
ity. Would to God there were more, and higher, 
and purer, and better. But we know of no moral- 
ity among rational men, among Christians, that is 
not built upon the sense of duty to God. We may 
talk of utility, of prudence, of pleasure, of honesty, 
and beneficence ; but without piety, the soul, the 
life of virtue is absent, and in the day of trial this 
fair and splendid structure will fail. When the 
rains and the floods descend, and beat on this 



196 SERMON XII. 

building it will fall, for it is founded upon the 
sand. 

In the second place, it seems to be a common 
opinion, that piety is a quality to be found only in 
particular constitutions, a disposition dispensed to 
some and denied to others, one of those diversi- 
ties in taste and temper, which makes a variety 
indeed in life, but that some men are not gifted 
with it, and it is not to be expected of them. 

Will you acknowledge then that piety is unnat- 
ural to you ? Do you know that piety means an 
affection of the mind to the greatest and worthiest 
Being in nature ; a grateful feeling towards the 
best friend, a trust in his wise and kind protection, 
a confidence in his paternal government, a sub- 
mission to his will, a desire of his esteem, and a 
humble expectation of happiness from his favor ? 
Do you know God, and are you ready to say that 
your minds are so formed, that you have no vene- 
ration or love for such a character? Will you 
plead that piety is unnatural to you ? God will not 
admit of this plea. God, who knows that he has 
laid in the constitution of human nature a founda- 
tion for all those affections of the soul which con- 
stitute piety, will not admit of this extenuation. 

This mistake, no doubt, arises in some degree 
from our judging of the nature of true piety from 
the form which it takes in particular tempers. All 
good affections are different in different minds. 
For example, the friendship of some men is strong 
and quiet, of others ardent. The humanity of 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 197 

some is melting and tender, of others active and 
constant but calm. So it is with piety. The only 
thing of consequence, is, that it be sincere, real, 
habitual, possessing the heart, keeping God in 
view in all the interests of our lives, and doing eve- 
rything with reference to him. The man who is 
willing to admit that he has no dispositions of this 
kind towards God, virtually admits that he has no 
good dispositions. He would be ashamed to say, 
that he was incapable of entering into the affec- 
tions and practising the duties of a good subject, 
friend, or son. If, then, he is willing to admit that 
he has no disposition to piety, he in fact excites 
the suspicion, and justly too, that he is pursuing 
some indulgences, and the slave of some affec- 
tions, which are at enmity with God, and with 
which he is afraid to present himself before God. 
The language of his heart is, ' Depart from me, for 
I desire not the knowledge of thy ways.' This, 
then, is a mistake which deserves our most serious 
consideration. 

There exists, however, a third proof of the defi- 
ciency of our notions on the subject of piety, and 
this is, the sentiment so often professed even by 
good and exemplary men, that they attend upon 
the public worship of God for the sake of setting 
an example. Be not surprised or offended that 
this language is adduced as a proof of the in- 
competency of our religious notions. Let this 
consideration of example have all the weight which 
it deserves ; but in the name of God, whom we pro- 



198 SERMON XII. 

fess to worship on this spot, let it not usurp the 
place of those affections towards him, which con- 
stitute true religion. Whenever our acts of devo- 
tion, or any other duties of piety, are observed 
merely for the sake of example, the ground of ac- 
tion is unsubstantial. If there is no reason for a 
duty, beside the example, there is in truth no rea- 
son for it at all. This language would lead to this 
most absurd conclusion, that if every one were 
entirely disposed to do his duty, and had no need 
of encouragement from the example of others, 
there would be no reason left for any duty ; in 
other words, we should have no duties to perform. 
In truth, if example were the only reason for the 
duties of piety, or for religious services, what sup- 
port have they ? None. Our conclusion from this 
reasoning then is, not that it is unlawful to admit 
this consideration, but that it is dangerous and 
wicked to allow that, which is only secondary and 
consequential, to shut out from our thoughts the 
true foundation of piety towards God. If this is 
the only motive for the observance of religious 
services, their religious quality has disappeared, 
their very life has vanished. Let us not say that 
we come here to pray. We do not ; we come here 
for the sake of the example ! Proud man ! idle 
spectator of this scene ! you vouchsafe your pre- 
sence in these assemblies for the benefit of others, 
for the edification of the people. Have you then 
no sins to deplore, no mercies to acknowledge, no 
pardon to entreat ? 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. J 99 

Piety, my christian hearers, can spring from 
nothing but itself, its own sentiment and principle, 
the sentiment of gratitude, reverence, and love 
towards God, the principle of obedience to his 
will, as the foundation of all christian virtue and 
true morality. Our acts of piety are altogether 
defective, in motive and in practice, when we do 
not consider our own interests involved in them, 
when we do not feel them to be our own particu- 
lar duty. 

Have we duly thought of this subject ? Is pri- 
vate and public devotion really a duty, which eve- 
ry rational creature owes to God, or is it only a 
habit which has grown up we know not how, from 
a time we know not when ? Do we bear in mind, 
that no religious services can be effectual, either 
with God or with ourselves, in which the affec- 
tions are not engaged ? If we never experience 
that warm and virtuous energy which devotion in- 
spires, the consolation it imparts, and the sympathy 
which social worship ought to awaken, we do not 
worship in spirit and in truth. If these are our 
sentiments and feelings, our piety will be an exam- 
ple to others, and yet our own. It will be public 
and yet personal. It will be what Christ would have 
it, when he said, ' Let your light so shine before 
men that they may see your good works, and 
glorify your Father who is in heaven.' The 
glory of God is the termination of the precept; 
and if we keep this in view, our example will have 
all the value which sincerity and piety can give it. 



200 SERMON XIII. 

My christian hearers, let us not forget that our 
character is utterly defective and incomplete 
without piety. The distinguishing service which 
Christianity has done for the world, is to bring us 
to the knowledge, love, and imitation of the true 
God. We talk indeed of the morality of the New 
Testament, we commend its virtuous precepts. 
But if we search the records of the heathen world, 
we shall find many great and good men, who have 
made extraordinary advances in all that is virtuous; 
in justice, temperance, and beneficence ; but the 
best and wisest of them made no approaches to- 
wards the piety of the gospel. Let us not forget, 
then, that as far as we are deficient in this blessed 
temper of devotion, so far do we fall short of the 
spirit of Christianity, the glory and distinction of 
a Christian. 

If there was ever a person on earth, who, in con- 
sequence of the perfection of every other virtue, 
might plead an exemption from this of piety, it 
was Jesus Christ. But in him this principle was 
the very origin and substance of all his excellen- 
ces. Every movement of his heart, every act of 
his life, was to please God. It was this which 
gave purity, fortitude, cheerfulness, consistency to 
everything in his character. He honored and 
worshipped his heavenly Father. He loved him, 
and delighted to hold constant communion with 
the Father of his spirit. If, then, we possessed 
this principle, how easy and delightful would be 
our duty! We should, from a principle of grati- 



MORALITY OF THE GOSPEL. 201 

tude, observe the ordinances of the gospel, and 
find happiness in all the exercises of a holy and 
merciful religion. God would be in all our 
thoughts, and whatsoever we did, we should do all 
in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. 



26 



SERMON XIII 



THE COMMON MISTAKES ON THE SUBJECT OF HAPPINESS 
AND ITS TRUE SOURCES. 



Psalm IV. 6. 

THERE BE MANY THAT SAY, WHO WILL SHOW US ANY GOOD? 

It is a melancholy consideration that this has 
been the common inquiry of men ever since the 
world was made, and that so few of them seem to 
have attained to anything like permanent happi- 
ness. How few are there in the world, who, if you 
ask them the plain and simple question, Are you 
happy? would answer spontaneously, that they 
were. How busy are men in the pursuit of this 
common good ! How numerous and opposite are 
the courses which they take ! How frequent and 
miserable are the countenances of the discontent- 
ed ! Philosophers have been speculating in all 
ages upon the supreme good, men have been mak- 
ing every imaginable variety of experiment, teach- 
ers have given innumerable lessons upon this most 
difficult yet most simple of arts; in fine, God has 
more than once interposed to assist us in our pro- 



FALSE VIEWS OF HAPPINESS. 203 

gress, and offers us every encouragement to the 
attainment of this great end, and yet how unsatis- 
fied are we, how grossly have we been disappoint- 
ed in the past, how painfully solicitous are we for 
the future! 

It shall be my present object to inquire, why 
there is not more happiness among mankind, and 
in order to this, I shall endeavour to lay open some 
of the most common mistakes upon the subject. 

I. 1 . The first mistake, which is too common, es- 
pecially among those who have experienced many 
trials and difficulties in life, is, that happiness is to 
be found in rest. Ask those who are so busy in the 
active pursuits of life, to what they look forward 
with such ardent expectations, and they will tell 
you that they are toiling for repose. They look 
with envy upon the condition of that man, who, in 
the language of the world, has nothing to do but 
enjoy himself. They look upon exertion as a spe- 
cies of servitude, as if he were the only indepen- 
dent man, who was reposing upon his laurels or 
his gains. But, as has been pointedly observed, 
that man is most restless, who is most at rest. 
Nothing is so hard as the pillow T of perpetual indo- 
lence ; nothing so oppressive as the stagnant, in- 
elastic air of entire inactivity. The truth is, that 
the mind which is not constantly directed to some- 
thing exterior, preys upon itself. The bed-ridden 
intellect pines away in atrophy and the ever- 
lasting uneasiness of sloth. Most of those who 
have nothing to do, commonly do nothing, or do 



204 SERMON XIII. 

wrong, and it is necessary to have advanced much 
further than most of us have in the work of our in- 
tellectual perfection, to be able to relinquish with- 
out great misery the career of active exertion. 

2. A second mistake upon the subject of happi- 
ness, is, that it is to be found in prosperity. The 
truth is, that of the objects of human acquisition, 
very few are beyond a certain limit even the 
means of happiness. We are perpetually making 
this mistake in respect to riches, and confounding 
two things completely distinct ; that is, property 
and happiness. Ask those, I pray you, who have 
accumulated the most enormous fortunes, whether 
they have ever yet been able to increase their pos- 
sessions faster than their wants. It is indeed a 
trite maxim, that a man's life consisteth not in the 
abundance of the things which he possesses, yet 
common as it is, it would seem as if it were a 
doubtful truth which remains to be established. 
For, when we look at those above us, and find that 
they are able to supply those wants to which 
we, in our actual situation, are most sensible, it is 
natural to conclude that they are happy, because 
we should be happy if we could remove, as they 
can, our most pressing needs. We do not consid- 
er that the higher we ascend and the wider we 
can see, the more we desire, and it is often true, 
that as our horizon is more extensive, the more 
barren is the soil immediately around us. These 
are all common truths ; but trite as they are, allow 
me to repeat, that he who can command every- 



FALSE VIEWS OF HAPPINESS. 205 

thing, will soon find that he must want something, 
he knows not what, which he cannot command. 
It is true, the rich man can enjoy more ; but on 
the other hand he can endure less. He now dares 
to envy the man whom he once only looked up 
to with hopeless admiration. He finds that the 
pleasures which he once enjoyed with exquisite sat- 
isfaction, have now strangely lost all their relish, 
and that there is not so much happiness in posses- 
sion, as there was in expectation. There is a 
strange charm in the idea of property. We think 
the enjoyment of any good is infinitely heightened 
by the conciousness that it is our own. These lit- 
tle words exercise a powerful spell over our judg- 
ments. And yet, how many thousands are there, 
who, as soon as they are able to say of anything in 
truth, ' This is mine,' lose at once all their interest 
in it, and strangely neglect sources of enjoyment, 
which, when they possessed them not, they 
thought inexhaustible. 

3. A third mistake on this subject, not less un- 
fortunate than either of the preceding, consists in 
supposing that happiness is to be found in perpetual 
excitement. Hence thousands always confound 
pleasure with mirth, and think nothing tolerable 
which is not exquisite. Others think nothing 
pleasant which is not riotous, nothing interesting 
which is not boisterous, nothing satisfactory which 
is not intoxicating. It is this mistake which leads 
so many through the ever shifting varieties of dis- 
sipation, when what ought to be only an occasional 



206 SERMON XIII. 

recreation is made necessary to common comfort, 
and all satisfaction is lost in the wearisome chase 
after novelty. 

Others, from the same diseased fancy, cannot 
confine themselves to a single spot. They rove 
continually after new objects of imagination, 
taste, and knowledge. They cannot endure home- 
born pleasures, and every day enjoyments. Every- 
thing little seems to them insignificant, everything 
permanent seems to them tedious. All these mis- 
taken pursuers of good are sooner or later the 
prey of excessive ennui. Having been always 
gay, they are never contented ; always delighted, 
they are never tranquil. Having been happy only 
by the excitement of society, they are miserable 
when alone. Old age proves to such beings, if 
they ever reach it, a most oppressive condition. 
Deluded as they have been with the notion that 
happiness consists in perpetual excitement, in 
great events, strong feelings, continual novelties, 
and vivid pleasures, they sink into dejection, indo- 
lence, melancholy, and become weary of life be- 
fore it is time for them to leave the scene of hu- 
man action and enjoyment. 

4. A fourth mistake in relation to happiness, 
is, that we make our provision exclusively for the 
present world ; we do not take into view the whole 
of our existence, and of course, as soon as the 
season of activity is over, and we are so near the 
term of human life that we are compelled, how- 
ever reluctantly, to think of the world which is 



FALSE VIEWS OF HAPPINESS. 207 

to come, we are filled with apprehensions of in- 
distinct calamity, and thus the remnant of life is 
embittered. We find ourselves in the situation of 
beings, who are about to enter, naked and un- 
friended, into a new condition of existence. God 
has so constituted the nature of our happiness, 
that it will ever be impossible to attain to the full 
enjoyment even of this life, without taking into 
our view the life to come ; for as long as there 
remains in any mind an apprehension, that it may 
exist hereafter, that mind can never be at ease till 
it is conscious of possessing some sources of hap- 
piness which this change of residence cannot 
effect. In comparison with eternity, what conso- 
lation is it to have laid up treasures here for ten, 
or for ten thousand years ? What is the comfort 
of being clothed in purple and fine linen, and of 
faring sumptuously every day ? No wonder he is 
never happy who thinks, whenever he reflects at 
all, that death will cut him off at once from all 
that he has been accustomed to call life; that 
the pleasures of the palate will no more reach the 
taste, the eye will no more indulge itself in the 
contemplation of fine forms, the organ of hear- 
ing will be no longer fed with the music of sweet 
sounds, and, every object of exterior employ- 
ment at once struck out of his reach, he will be 
left with nothing but the intrinsic possessions of 
the mind and heart — and of these how small and 
worthless will be found the inventory ! 



208 SERMON XIII. 

Such, then, are the dreary consequences of hav- 
ing made no provision for any life but the present. 
It proves to you, that, to be permanently happy, 
we must extend our views, enlarge the sphere of 
our vision, the nature of our enjoyments, and take 
into consideration the whole of our existence. 
Especially remember that this world is but the 
infancy of our being. Our schemes of happiness, 
which extend no further than this life, are misera- 
bly defective. It is as if the child were to lay up 
a vast repository of toys and sweetmeats to feed 
and to amuse him when he arrives at man's estate. 
It is as if he were to collect a sumptuous ward- 
robe for his future life of vestments adapted to his 
boyish stature. 

With all these sources of mistake, is it surpris- 
ing that so few men are happy ? Let us acknow- 
ledge that we have been mistaken. Let us in- 
stantly endeavour to correct our misconceptions. 
Let us confess that we have taken the most partial 
views of human life ; that we have hewn out to 
ourselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold 
no water. 

II. We will attempt to explore the true sources 
of christian and intellectual enjoyment, which 
brings me to the second division of my discourse, 
in which I proposed to point out the true and only 
sources of good, suited to the nature and destina- 
tion of man. 

We will examine this subject in reference to four 
circumstances of mind and character, which have 



SOURCES OF HAPPINESS. 209 

the most extensive influence on human happiness. 
These are our habits, our opinions, our imagina- 
tion, and our temper. You observe, that we entirely 
exclude from this inquiry, every consideration of 
the outward circumstances whether of wealth or of 
station. Not that these are entirely without influ- 
ence, but, as we have already said, their influence 
is much less than is commonly imagined ; and it is 
an influence which may be easily controlled by 
higher considerations ; an influence which is al- 
ways diminished or modified by one or other of the 
mental qualities we enumerate. For there is no 
place so low to which the meek spirit of religious 
contentment cannot condescend, and none so 
high that the horrors of a haunted conscience and 
the pains of selfishness cannot reach. 

1. As to the influence of our habits upon our hap- 
piness, to the young and to parents the inquiry is 
most interesting ; for habits, you well know, are 
early and permanent. They are not to be put on 
and ofT like our youthful garments. The gay and 
vain creatures of fashion, the hour they are dis- 
pleased with themselves in one dress, can change 
it for another; but the habit of dissipation and un- 
satisfied vanity is not so easily changed. If, then, 
you would secure to yourselves all the happiness 
which habit can effect, accustom yourselves from 
infancy to those occupations and enjoyments only, 
which you can at all times command. If you have 
been early brought up to depend upon circumstan- 
ces over which you have no control, every change 
27 



210 SERMON XIII. 

will affect your comfort, and you will find every 
new situation tear up the roots of your long es- 
tablished pleasures. 

The only habits consistent with uninterrupted 
happiness, are those of active exertion directed to 
benevolent ends. These never become weari- 
some, never painful. They always afford the 
mind a sufficient object, and always bring with 
them their own reward. They are not attended 
with any of the pains of envy. The satisfaction 
they furnish is not affected by the superior suc- 
cess of others in the same career ; and if in any 
particular instance we fail of success, we have on- 
ly to submit, with the approbation of our own 
minds, to the will of Heaven, or to divert our ener- 
gies into a new direction. For the mind that is 
habituated to active goodness can never want a 
sphere of action, and it is a state which never re- 
quires relaxation nor tends to disgust and satiety. 

That this is the true secret of happiness as it 
relates to our habits, is not less confirmed by ex- 
perience than by the spirit and precepts of Christi- 
anity. The character of Jesus, as it is delineated in 
the Gospels, is a model of benevolent activity. He 
was always about his Father's business, and al- 
ways foresaw a sure reward of his labors and suffer- 
ings in the increasing happiness of the human race. 
His mind was always filled with a vast object of 
good, and if there was any period in the course of 
his laborious life when he may be supposed to 
have enjoyed more satisfaction than at others, it 



SOURCES OF HAPPINESS. 211 

must have been soon after he entered on his be- 
nevolent employment, and passed rapidly through 
the cities of Galilee, healing all manner of sickness 
and all manner of diseases among the people, and 
proclaiming the glad tidings of the kingdom of God. 
Christians, the true secret of happiness, is, employ- 
ment for the kindest ends and by the most honor- 
able means. Compared to this, our habits of sloth 
and repose, of regular sensuality, of grasping ava- 
rice, of selfish occupation, whether of the imagina- 
tion or of the senses, is nothing but sure and ulti- 
mate discontent. Dare to disregard, then, the com- 
mon prejudices of the world in determining the sys- 
tem which shall govern your life, and remember 
that however painful any course of duty, especially 
that of benevolent, disinterested conduct may be 
at first to our selfish nature, time will render it the 
source of the highest tranquillity. The habits of 
a life of truly christian activity, will prove at last 
the only satisfactory objects of retrospection. 

2. In the second place, with respect to the influ- 
ence of our opinions upon our happiness, it is 
important that we should have those only which 
give us the most consolatory views of ourselves, 
of the world around us, and of God. I do not re- 
fer here to our merely speculative notions, which 
have no operation beyond the walls of our studies ; 
but I mean those which take deep root in the 
mind, and exert an habitual influence upon our 
conduct. It is supposed, I know, that opinions sel- 
dom affect the course of life or the sum of happi- 



212 SERMON XIII. 

ness. This may be true with the unreflecting and 
improvident, who ldok for nothing in the world but 
a pasture for their senses, and who never think 
upon the origin or destination of themselves or 
others ; but in this description I hope few of my 
hearers are included. 

With respect to those opinions, then, which have 
the most favorable influence upon human happi- 
ness, we again find, as on the former head, that 
revelation comes to our instruction, and in the 
light of the gospel, wherever we pass, the desert of 
the world blooms on either hand with hope. Can 
there be no difference in the happiness of that man 
who believes that all the rich manifestations of 
beauty in creation are without an author, all the 
evils in the world without a controller, and every 
event produced by a blind, unconscious fatality, 
and of him who sees at the head of creation a 
wise and benevolent Providence ? Can there be 
no difference in the reflections of that man who 
looks upon this world as given up forever to be the 
spoil of men's wicked passions, and who considers 
himself placed on the earth merely to struggle for 
his share among plunderers and fighters for a little 
temporary provision, and of him who, by the light of 
the gospel, discerns the slow but sure melioration 
of mankind, and resting on the promises of scrip- 
ture, looks forward to the day when all God's de- 
signs shall be accomplished, and even this world 
be changed into a region of peace and joy and 
christian perfection ? Will there be no difference, 



SOURCES OF HAPPINESS. 213 

also, in the satisfaction of him, whose opinion it is 
that evil predominates in the visible creation, and 
that this world is a state of suffering, and of him who 
discerns, even here, the preponderance of happi- 
ness, and reposes with satisfaction on the proofs 
of divine benevolence, even in this state of human 
probation ? Be assured, my friends, the doctrines 
of revelation are not less designed to promote our 
tranquillity than to advance our moral improve- 
ment. Especially consider, I beseech you, how 
important to our peace is that doctrine of Chris- 
tianity which assures us of the pardon of sins upon 
repentance ; which presents to us the God whom 
we have all offended, in the light of a Father wil- 
ling to be reconciled ; which satisfies us of the 
ground upon which this pardon is dispensed, and 
directs us to the mediation of the Son of God. 
The settlement of human opinion on this single 
particular, may be supposed to operate most pow- 
erfully on the sum of general and individual hap- 
piness. 

As to the comparative effect of different views 
of Christianity upon the peace of those who enter- 
tain them, it is a subject too copious for this occa- 
sion. Allow me to suggest, however, that when 
any opinions upon this interesting subject produce 
habitual gloom and misanthropy, the nature of 
religion must have been misapprehended, and cer- 
tainly the object of it defeated. In your search, 
then, after happiness, labor to acquire the most 
enlarged views of God's character and designs as 



214 SERMON XIII. 

declared by revelation, and these, united with the 
benevolent exertion recommended under the form- 
er head, will go far towards securing you all the 
happiness which is to be enjoyed in this narrow 
sphere of the existence of an intellectual being. 

3. If, in the third place, we consider the influ- 
ence of the imagination upon our habitual tran- 
quillity, we shall feel the importance of ascertaining 
the means of regulating its influence in a manner 
the most favorable to human happiness. There 
are many, I know, who derive little either of plea- 
sure or of pain from their imaginations ; but there 
are others to whom it is a source of exquisite dis- 
tress, giving them the most dreary prospects of fu- 
turity, harrassing them with the terrors of super- 
stition, or depressing them with the dark uncer- 
tainty of scepticism. 

We have unintentionally anticipated, under the 
last head, some observations which belong more 
properly to this. 

When the imagination is extremely lively, either 
from original constitution or from early cultiva- 
tion, if it is not made a sweet fountain of felicity, it 
is usually converted into one of the most distres- 
sing sources of misery. Here, too, as before, the 
religion of Jesus enters, and offers the imagination 
an inexhaustible store of higher objects. The 
scenes which he discloses beyond the grave, are 
sublime and consolatory on the one hand, and 
fearful and mortally oppressive on the other. Can 
you, then, whose minds are formed to derive much 



SOURCES OF HAPPINESS. 215 

happiness from remote anticipations, hesitate a 
moment to secure the favorable influence of the 
christian prospects of felicity ? My peace, says our 
Saviour to his disciples, I give unto you ; not as the 
world giveth, give I unto you. This is most true, 
my christian friends, and all the imaginable happi- 
ness which a mere philosopher can derive from the 
tranquillity with which he may be able to look for- 
ward to the events of tomorrow, or even the re- 
mainder of his days, is less than nothing in the 
estimate of human happiness, compared to the joys 
of a Christian's hope. 

But in the wise ordination of Providence, the 
overpowering nature of these high anticipations 
is relieved by their remoteness, and the effect 
upon the Christian's happiness is not to raise him 
to perpetual ecstasy, but to keep up in his mind the 
glow of perpetual hope. 

4. The last circumstance which we mentioned 
as exercising a powerful influence on human hap- 
piness, is the temper. We hear truly good men 
often lamenting, as the bane of their happiness, an 
instinctive irascibility. It is often, indeed, united 
with strong affection and benevolence, and often, 
alas ! destroys the happiness which might be ex- 
pected from a life of active exertion, not so much 
from the ill effect it produces on the mind, as from 
the misfortunes to which it leads, and these we 
are not always able to alleviate by the concious- 
ness that they are entirely undeserved. 



21 G SERMON XIII. 

Ill humor is still more unfavorable to happiness 
than this irascible temper. It commonly origi- 
nates in self-dissatisfaction, and leads him who 
feels it to refer the causes of his discontent to the 
imaginary faults of others, and keeps him in a state 
of perpetual peevishness. I need not, my hearers, 
tell you that to enjoy this life, it is necessary to 
possess a temper candid to the faults and mistakes 
of others, disposed to mutual accommodation, not 
easily provoked, and willing to see everything that 
occurs, in the most favorable light. Every one 
knows that he whose disposition is most favorable 
to his own happiness, is most agreeable to others, 
and that these common qualities of pleasing and 
being pleased mutually react upon and generate 
each other. 

But, my friends, the christian doctrine carries 
this subject of the temper much further, and repre- 
sents those dispositions as essential to happiness 
which we, in our worldly meditations, are too apt 
to despise, as if they exposed a man to insult or 
ridicule. If we read the beatitudes in our Saviour's 
sermon on the mount, we shall find the utmost 
meekness under injuries, the most unbounded for- 
giveness represented as the disposition which leads 
to happiness. We shall find a blessing pronounc- 
ed upon that compassionate temper which sympa- 
thizes with all the miseries of human life, which 
shares in all the pains it meets, weeps with the 
weeping, and mourns with the bereaved. Still 
further does our Saviour bless the patient and 



SOURCES OF HAPPINESS. 217 

resigned disposition which bears without a mur- 
mur the severest afflictions of life, while we are 
disposed to envy the hardness of the man who 
can avoid or repulse them. 

Ye proud spirits who cannot endure the humble 
genius of the religion of Jesus, weigh well this 
subject of happiness before you reject this self- 
denying system. Experience will decide against 
you, and vindicate the beatitudes of the sermon 
of the mount. For us Christians it is enough that 
Jesus has pronounced such tempers happy. 

My friends, I have attempted to lay open to you 
the true sources of happiness. Follow the stream, 
and it will bear you away to the full ocean of 
eternal bliss. Do you now ask, who will show 
you any good ? Jesus, my friends, calls to you 
from heaven ; Whosoever drinketh of the water 
of life shall never thirst again. 



28 



SERMON XIV. 



THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 

Matthew, VI. 13. 

LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION, BUT DELIVER US FROM EVIL. 

\ The life of every man of established religious 
1 principles has been a series of struggles. He has 
found it far more easy to form than to keep his 
best resolutions, and he has discovered also with 
alarm, that any course of conduct is far more easi- 
ly depraved, than it is amended. Every moral ob- 
server knows also, that mankind do not agree to 
approve a character, which is today wicked and 
tomorrow good, which is habitually scrupulous in 
one duty and remiss in another ; but we give the 
title of virtuous to that man only, the sum total of 
whose habits are uniformly on the side of virtue. 
This is one of the difficulties which make virtue 
laborious. 

Upon further inquiry we find, that no man's 
goodness is innate and instinctive, but it is to be 
acquired by labor, and it is also corruptible by cir- 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 219 

cumstances. Sanctification is progressive. Be- 
fore habits of virtue can be established, tempta- 
tions must be resisted, pleasures forborne, pains 
endured, danger encountered, sacrifices made, 
false steps recovered, and not a few moments em- 
bittered by the tears of penitence and remorse. 

Nothing truly great is given to mortals without 
labor ; and think you, that moral goodness, that 
most sublime and imperishable of human posses- 
sions, is the offspring of chance ? Fortune may 
make a man distinguished, but it can never make 
him great ; so nature may make a man innocent 
and amiable, but never virtuous. Neither is virtue 
that easy acquisition, that a man may secure it by 
flight from temptation. It is as if you were to ex- 
pect to acquire a strong constitution by retiring to 
ease and sloth in the country, or as if you were to 
seek for uninterrupted health, by flying from infec- 
tion. No, the strength of a Christian's virtue is the 
reward of frequent resistance and frequent victo- 
ries. The child must fall often and hardly, before 
its step becomes firm. 

From these remarks, however, do not understand 
me to mean, that where there is no temptation 
there can be no virtue. The highest degree of 
moral excellence is found, we know, in that Being 
who cannot be tempted of evil, neither tempteth 
he any man. But, my friends, it hath appeared 
best to this all-wise Being, who made us, to cre- 
ate us an order of beings whose existence here 
shall be transitory and probationary. He has giv- 



220 SERMON XIV. 

en us a nature which is capable of perpetual pro- 
gress towards himself, and he that can advance, 
must be also able to retreat. The higher we 
soar, the stronger will be our flight, but the lower 
we creep, the darker and more encumbered is our 
progress. So insecure is our virtue, that we can- 
not stand firm without ascending to a considera- 
ble height, and the rewards of virtue are the more 
sensible, the more difficult they are of attainment. 
If this is the case, it does not become us to com- 
plain that we were not created angels, with in- 
corruptible natures and instinctive goodness. The 
rewards of holiness, in such creatures as we are, 
are the very consequences of its difficulties, just 
as an estate of the same value is vastly more esti- 
mable to one who has attained it by his industry, 
than to him who inherits it from his ancestors. 

But God, who has placed man in what may be 
called an enemy's country, has provided him with 
every auxiliary. He has not left him to roll darkly 
down the torrent of his fate. Precepts, example, 
promises, threatenings, honor, shame, suffering, 
reward, and every variety of means and motives, 
are provided from the first hour that the mind 
discovers any intelligence, to train it up to holi- 
ness and heaven. You may choose your weapon 
from the whole armoury of God. In the language 
of scripture, you may gird about your loins with 
truth, protect your heart with the breastplate of 
righteousness, and have your feet shod with the 
preparation of the gospel of peace. Then, with 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 221 

the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and 
the sword of the spirit, you may be expected to 
endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. 

It shall be my present object, to direct my re- 
marks chiefly to the young and inexperienced. I 
shall first ascertain the true meaning of the words, 
1 lead ,us not into temptation ; ' 

Secondly, point out some of the peculiar temp- 
tations of the young ; 

Lastly, offer some motives and considerations, 
which may serve to enlighten and fortify the inex- 
perienced mind. 

I. In reading the phrase, ' lead us not into 
temptation,' it should be remembered, that it was 
common with the Jews and indeed with all the 
Oriental nations, to refer to the immediate agency 
of Deity, every change in the appearance of na- 
ture, and every action of voluntary agents. How 
far this is philosophically or religiously correct, it is 
not necessary here to examine. It is enough for 
us to know, that an apostle has said, ' Let no man 
say, when he is tempted, I am tempted of God,' 
We understand the clause, then, to mean, < Grant, 
that in the ordinary course of thy Providence, we 
may find ourselves in no circumstances, which 
may put our virtue to atrial too severe.' 

The other petition, ' but deliver us from evil,' 
may be variously interpreted. It may mean exemp- 
tion from temporal and natural calamities or from 
immediate danger. Thus interpreted, it will in- 
clude only the miseries to which humanity is sub- 



222 SERMON XIV. 

ject, disappointments, losses, sickness, and death. 
But as there appears to be an opposition intended 
between this and the other clause, it is not proba- 
ble that deliverance from these natural evils only, 
would be made the antithesis to the dangers of 
temptation, which are of a nature entirely moral. 
1 Deliver us from the evil one,' is another and more 
literal expression of the original, and follows the 
first clause with peculiar propriety. We would 
first pray to be preserved from temptation ; but if 
our virtue must be placed in perilous circumstan- 
ces, we pray, that it may not yield to the arts of the 
adversary. Again ; lead us not into temptation, but 
deliver us from the evil of it, that is, of tempta- 
tion ; a sense not much remote from the last, and 
amounting to a request, that trials and temptations 
may not prove ultimately injurious to our virtue. 

II. My young friends, for to you are these re- 
marks especially directed, allow me to warn you of 
some of the dangers of temptation, to which you 
are exposed. It may be observed, to the honor of 
the world into which you are about to enter, that 
the character of a deliberate seducer of the young 
is rarely known. It is that grade of depravity 
which the first apostate only has directly and seri- 
riously reached. You will soon, however, find 
men in society, who wish for associates in trans- 
gression, that they may palliate their vices to oth- 
ers and to themselves, by the multitude who are 
engaged in them, and who hope, that what is no 
longer singular may appear no longer criminal. 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 223 

You will find others, who depend indirectly upon 
the vices of mankind for support, and who secretly 
encourage the corruption which contributes to 
their own emolument. In general, however, the 
instrumentality of others in our temptation is not 
direct, nor deliberate and voluntary. The unaid- 
ed allurements of appetite and passion every one 
knows to be sufficiently powerful, without being 
stimulated by the persuasions of others. We may 
safely conclude with St James, ' that every man is 
tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lusts, 
and enticed.' 

It is true that every age and employment has its 
snares, but the feet of the young are most easily 
entrapped. Issuing forth, as you do, in the morn- 
ing of life, into the wide field of existence, where 
the flowers are all open, it is no wonder that you 
pluck some that are poisonous. Tasting every 
golden fruit that hangs over the garden of life, it 
is no wonder that you should find some of the most 
tempting, hollow and mouldy. But the peculiar 
characteristic of your age, my young friends, is 
impetuosity and presumptuousness. You are with- 
out caution, because without experience. You are 
precipitate because you have enjoyed so long the 
protection of others, that you have yet to learn to 
protect yourselves. You grasp at every pleasure 
because it is new, and every society charms with a 
freshness which you will be surprised to find grad- 
ually wearing away. Young as you are upon the 
stage, there seems to be little for you to know of 



224 SERMON XIV. 

yourselves ; therefore you are contented to know 
little, and the world will not let you know more 
till it has disappointed you oftener. Perhaps 
it has been foolishly impressed upon your fancies, 
that it is expected of youth, that it should be gay, 
of age that it should be sober ; that is the duty of 
youth to enjoy, and that age will bring the dispo- 
sition to restrain, and the leisure to repent. You 
are yet, also, unsuspecting and credulous. Satiety 
has not yet produced disgust. Disappointment 
has not yet taught you, that the pleasures of sense 
and fancy, though they are the earliest, are not 
the most permanent of human pleasures. If you 
will not learn from instruction you must learn from 
experiment. Take care that it be not fatal. 

Youth also, although it has not the deep rooted 
prejudices of age, entertains a thousand false no- 
tions, which are the consequence of superficial at- 
tainments. The reason of a young man, when it 
first begins to feel its powers, loves to sport itself 
in paradoxes and singular opinions. But in mor- 
als, paradox is always dangerous. The next step 
to justifying irregularity, is to practise it ; and 
many a man looks back upon his early opinions 
with mingled astonishment and gratitude, and bles- 
ses God that his habits were never so corrupt as 
his principles. 

It is true that age has its failings ; but I believe 
it will often be found that the follies of age, though 
utterly opposite, are frequently the consequence 
of the sins of early years. The desire of accu- 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 225 

mulating wealth, which is so natural to age, is 
likely to be most powerful in him, who in his youth 
was profuse and extravagant. That querulousness 
and discontent, which, in age, are sometimes the 
attendants of real, infirmities, are not less fre- 
quently found to be the punishment of the ex- 
cesses of early life, spent too carelessly and ex- 
hausted too soon. Those ill humors, which we 
kindly excuse by calling them natural to particular 
seasons of life, are usually the dregs of former 
indulgences. The follies of the young are some- 
times amiable in the eyes of the world ; but it is 
the punishment of amiable sins, to lose in after 
life all their charms, and to be the more odious 
the older they appear. 

Entering then into life, you will find every rank 
and occupation environed with its peculiar temp- 
tations, and without some other and higher prin- 
ciple than that which influences a merely worldly 
man, you are not a moment secure. You are 
poor, and you think pleasure and fashion and am- 
bition will disdain to spread their snares for so 
ignoble a prey. It is true they may. But take 
care that dishonesty does not dazzle you with an 
exhibition of sudden gains. Take care that want 
does not disturb your imagination by temptations 
to fraud. Distress may drive you to indolence 
and despair, and these united may drown you in 
intemperance. Even robbery and murder have 
sometimes stalked in at the breach, which poverty 
or calamity has left unguarded. You are rich> 
29 



226 SERMON XIV. 

and you think that pride and a just sense of repu- 
tation will preserve you from the vices of the vul- 
gar. It is true they may ; and you may be ruined 
in the progress of luxury, and lost to society and 
at last to God, while sleeping in the lap of the 
most flattering and enervating abundance. Let 
the prayer of Agur be included in the petition of 
our text. ' Lead me not, O God, into temptation 
by giving me either poverty or riches ; but feed 
me with food convenient for me, lest I be full and 
deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord, or lest I be 
poor and steal, and take the name of my God in 



vain.' 



Again ; you are educated for a sedentary and 
contemplative life. You expect to know little of 
the manners of the age, and to look at a safe dis- 
tance upon the vices and seductions of the world. 
To avoid temptation by flying to solitude has been 
a perpetual delusion of studious minds. This is 
the principle upon which the monastic institutions 
of many religions have been founded ; institutions, 
which, as has been acutely observed, have been 
supported rather by the fear of vice, than the love 
of virtue. But do not flatter yourselves that re- 
tirement has no dangers. The very security from 
temptation, which the recluse imagines himself to 
enjoy, is itself a temptation. 

A life of study also tends insensibly to foster a 
species of intellectual selfishness, which a more 
liberal intercourse with mankind would replace 
with more valuable, though perhaps less extraor- 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 227 

dinary, dispositions. In solitude the benevolent 
feelings cannot attain their full growth ; a proud 
misanthropy is indulged, and a man may imagine 
himself too pure or too intellectual for society, 
when he is only too proud. 

I will not attempt to enumerate even a small 
part of the temptations, which await you in the 
active pursuits of life. I only know that you will 
sometimes find yourselves in exigences, where 
contending passions will beat against your sternest 
principles. I hope they will be founded upon the 
rock of the gospel. You will find, here, sudden 
prospects of gain opening upon your fancy, and 
obscuring your clear perception of justice. There, 
secrecy and silence will encourage you to voluptu- 
ousness. Conviviality, good fellowship, and the 
exhilarating influence of society, will steal away 
your time, and perhaps tempt you to the intempe- 
rate use of sinful pleasures. If, in the language 
of the world, you are so happy as to please, and 
to be taken up by those who control much of the 
amusements and pleasures of the day, fashion will 
betray you into a thousand senseless extravagan- 
ces, and what I fear more, will surely repress 
many a noble quality, too exalted for the standard 
of the day. But, my friends, when I think of the 
insensible force of general example in every rank 
and employment of life, I fear that you may be 
fashioned only for this world. There is a perpetual 
and unobserved influence of custom, to which, as 
soon as we rise in the world, we all unconsciously 



228 SERMON XIV. 

bend, like young plants which have been grow- 
ing up straight, while they were low and secluded, 
as soon as they reach the height where the light 
is admitted from without, they bend all their 
leaves and branches insensibly toward the part 
where there is the strongest glare. The influence 
of popular manners conceals from us our follies 
and our vices among those of the world. My 
friends, the vigilance which alone can preserve 
you, must be unwearied. The contest may be 
severe, but the victory will be glorious, and the 
reward will be eternal. 

III. But to portray dangers, without consi- 
dering how you may guard against them, would 
be not only useless, but unfavorable to your secu- 
rity. Let me then, thirdly, suggest some conside- 
rations, which will always come to the relief of our 
sinking or fluctuating minds, when they are the 
prey of strong temptation. Previously, however, 
let me beseech you to remember, that the aid of 
God's spirit is promised to every holy resolution 
and to every sincere exertion. It is not less phi- 
losophically than theologically true, that no effort 
in the cause of goodness is ultimately lost. God 
never paralysed an arm raised in the cause of vir- 
tue. 

The first and strongest motive which I can offer 
you to resist early the temptations of sin, is, the 
consequences of a single victory or a single defeat. 
The life of man is a campaign, the result of which 
sometimes depends upon the first battles. And 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 229 

need I tell you, Christians, that the consequences 
of your youthful conduct, extend through a series 
of ages, which the imagination even, cannot reach ? 
If death were really to close your expectations 
forever, you might take the gay delights of the 
Epicurean. You might eat and drink, for tomorrow 
you would die. You might float pleasantly down 
the stream of time, lying on your oars, and laugh- 
ing at those who were laboring against the tide. 
But, my friends, when I look forward only a few 
years, I see you in the immediate presence of that 
Power who has given us a being, which he has 
told us we can never abdicate. You may die ; but 
you die to live again, and to tell how you have 
lived. It will not be enough to say that thousands 
have run the short career of ruin before you. 
They will rise up from their sleep of the tomb to 
accuse you of having followed them. We have a 
great trust deposited in our hands. It is no less 
than the gift of eternal life, and we are to account 
for it ; even if nature were to perish, we must 
account for it. 

Consider also the honor of a faithful resistance 
to the temptations of the world. Your struggles 
are secret, they are unknown to the world, and 
therefore the world cannot reward you. Or if it 
should reward you, you will find its loudest ap- 
plauses dying away at last upon your ear, and the 
still small voice of God's approbation shall be 
sweeter than the music of the spheres. 



230 SERMON XIV. 

Again ; look steadily at the character of a man 
of established virtue and christian excellence. 
How noble a creature is he in God's creation ! 
lord of himself, though destitute of everything. 
Sin has no dominion over him. The world rever- 
ences, but cannot reward him. Observe him with 
attention. If his foot sometimes slip, he falls to 
rise again. Passion may sometimes surprise an 
unguarded fortress, but the citadel is safe ; the 
soul is strong in faith, and in devout reliance on 
the succor of Heaven. The food which nourishes 
him descends from above, and the supply cannot 
be shut out by the world. 

My young friends, I would direct your attention 
to the character of your Saviour, and beg of you 
to study it till you love it and dare to imitate it. 
We soon search after great examples to encourage 
us in this folly and that vice, fond of resembling 
the great, if it be only in their defects, and sinning 
with less compunction, if we can only sin in com- 
pany. Look at the Son of God, who was just en- 
tering, like yourselves, a hostile world, inexperi- 
enced and without a friend. Scarcely had he 
commenced the great business of his life, the du- 
ties of his ministry, before, as a preparation for it, 
he underwent the severest discipline. In whatever 
way we interpret the history of our Saviour's 
temptation, it cannot be understood otherwise, 
than as presenting a severe and distressing trial of 
his mind. He had early to struggle, then, with 



TEMPTATIONS OF THE YOUNG. 231 

the temptations of interest and vanity and ambi- 
tion, but the tempter was in each of his plans de- 
feated. 

At another period of his life, you will find him 
invited to assume an unlawful power, and fully 
able to avail himself of the enthusiasm of the mul- 
titude, and to be crowned king of the Jews. But 
rejecting every allurement which might divert him 
for any season from the proper business of his 
ministry, he retires alone to a desert place, casting 
aside those honors, which have in every age 
tempted the ambition of his less humble followers. 

Do not be contented, my young friends, to read 
and admire w r hat you may imitate. The example, 
even of the Son of God, from his cradle to his 
grave, is transmitted to us that we may imitate it. 

The last resource against temptation is prayer. 
Escaping, then, from your tempter, fly to God. 
Cultivate the habit of devotion. It shall be a wall 
of fire around you, and your glory in the midst of 
of you. To this practice the uncorrupted senti- 
ments of the heart impel you, and invitations are 
as numerous as they are merciful, to encourage 
you. When danger has threatened your life, you 
have called upon God. When disease has wasted 
your health and you have felt the tomb opening 
under your feet, you have called upon God. When 
you have apprehended heavy misfortunes or en- 
gaged in hazardous enterprises, you have perhaps 
resorted to God, to ask his blessing. But what 
are all these dangers to the danger which your 



232 SERMON XIV. 

virtue may be called to encounter on your first en- 
trance into life ? In habitual prayer, you will find 
a safeguard. You will find every good resolution 
fortified by it, and every seduction losing its pow- 
er, when seen in the new light which a short com- 
munion with Heaven affords. In prayer you will 
find that a state of mind is generated which will 
shed a holy influence over the whole character ; 
and those temptations, to which you were just 
yielding, will vanish with all their allurements, 
when the daystar of devotion rises in your hearts. 
With this view, our Saviour has inserted the 
petition in the text, * lead us not into temptation.' 
Let us dwell upon it in every prayer. If, in the 
words of a pious man, * sinning has not made us 
leave off praying, praying will make us leave off 
sinning.' Watch, then, my young friends, and 
pray, that you enter not into temptation. 



SERMON XV 



SINCERITY. 
1 Corinthians, V. 8. 

BUT WITH THE UNLEAVENED BREAD OF SINCERITY AND TRUTH 

The apostle appears here to be giving direc- 
tions as to the mode of observing the communion. 
In imitation of the feast of passover, before which 
the Jews were required to remove all leaven out 
of their houses, and eat the festival with unleav- 
ened bread, the apostle exhorts the Corinthians to 
observe the distinguishing rite of their religion, 
which commemorates their deliverance from sin 
and death by the sacrifice of Christ, with the un- 
leavened bread of sincerity and truth. This in- 
junction, which is here particularly applied to the 
celebration of the supper, it is my intention to 
consider in its importance to the whole character 
of a Christian; for he who has come forward to 
this characteristic ceremony hypocritically or in 
the spirit of imposition, cannot be supposed to 
be more sincere in the rest of his conduct. 
30 



234 SERMON XV. 

Sincerity is a word which is often used in an 
indeterminate and unsatisfactory manner, so that 
we often hear men called sincere who have no 
other quality in the world to recommend them. A 
man may be sincerely impious, or sincerely intole- 
rant. He may be following his judgment, and 
even his conscience, when he is offending against 
the laws of God and man. In the common sense 
of the word as it is opposed merely to dissimula- 
tion, the quality is negative, indifferent, not much 
to be desired, and sometimes dangerous. When 
it is applied, however, to religion, it is used in a 
good sense, and usually includes the idea of un- 
qualified and hearty devotion to the will of God. 
Still, even when used with reference to reli- 
gion, it is sometimes made a convenient substitute 
for some more specific description of men's char- 
acter and motives, and we are glad to avoid a 
close scrutiny of the justice of the opinions or 
conduct of ourselves or others, by saying, when 
we can say nothing else, that they are sincere. 

Thus it happens that when the subject of reli- 
gious opinions is discussed, and some one is found 
who deviates from the common standard, and ques- 
tion is made of his correctness, the conclusion of- 
ten heard is, ' He may be erroneous but he gives 
proof of his sincerity.' When the principle on 
which a man acts is canvassed, and doubts are 
raised of the religious or moral character of an- 
other, and some are proposing one test of char- 
acter and some another, the inquiry is usually ter- 



SINCERITY. 235 

minated by saying, ' Though he may be imperfect 
or mistaken, yet we have reason to think him sin- 
cere. 5 

A word of such common and convenient appli- 
cation, deserves to be thoroughly understood and 
cautiously used. Especially in our examination of 
ourselves as well as of others, it is of importance 
that we know what it is we pretend to, when we 
lay claim to sincerity. 

In this discourse it will be my object to ascer- 
tain what is implied in the character of religious 
sincerity ; and in doing this, I shall first consider 
with what imperfections sincerity is consistent, and 
in the next place endeavour to point out some of 
the most sure and indispensable tests of this qual- 

ity. 

1. 1. In the first place, then, sincerity is not in- 
consistent with some degree of prejudice. Such is 
the constitution of human nature and the circum- 
stances of our education, that the best of men find 
it impossible to grow up without receiving many 
prejudices against individuals or descriptions of 
men, as well as against opinions, which greater 
age and further information are necessary to cor- 
rect. Thus we find in the evangelists that the ex- 
cellent Nathaniel, when he is first informed of the 
origin of Jesus to whom he is introduced, cries out, 
in the true spirit of a Jew of that age, Can any 
good thing come out of Nazareth ? This appears 
to us a most absurd and unworthy prepossession ; 
yet it did not prevent our Saviour's immediately 



236 SERMON XV. 

giving this very Nathaniel that memorable char- 
acter, 'Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is 
no guile.' This instance in the evangelical nar- 
rative, should teach us candor in our judgments 
of men, and encourage us to make every allowance 
for inevitable prejudice, where it is not obstinate- 
ly and unjustly cherished. The true difference 
between a sincere and insincere opinionist, is this; 
that the former, though he is not free from unfor- 
tunate biases, is yet willing to be free from them. 
He neither flies from conviction, nor does he close 
his eyes against evidence. He is a friend per- 
haps of particular men, or attached to particular 
opinions ; but he is neither afraid of the progress of 
truth, nor does he place impediments in the way 
of examination. The insincere bigot, on the con- 
trary, stifles his convictions and perverts testimo- 
ny. He is angry when he is found in the wrong, 
and dissembles when he is really convinced of his 
error. His prejudices are personal, and his views 
are selfish and malignant. Not so the guileless 
Nathaniel, for he came at the invitation of Jesus, 
saw, and was convinced. 

2. Again ; religious sincerity is not inconsistent 
with considerable ignorance. The whole history 
of pious men bears witness to and illustrates the 
all-comprehensive nature of true religion. We 
find in the gospels, that the apostles, who were 
most sincerely attached to their Master during his 
life, were yet ignorant of his real character till af- 
ter his resurrection. They could not be persuad- 



SINCERITY. 237 

ed that he was to suffer, and even after he had suf- 
fered, their minds were full of his royal character, 
and they were expecting to see him restore the 
kingdom to Israel. Before the vision granted to 
Peter, the disciples had no suspicion that the favor 
of God was to be extended to the Gentiles ; and 
if we may judge from the language of some of 
them in their epistles, they seem to have expected 
the end of the world during their own lives, and 
the return of Christ from heaven. Now, whoever 
will consider the importance of these facts and 
doctrines, such as the suffering of Christ, his real 
character as Messiah, the comprehension and ex- 
tension of his church, and the time of his second 
advent, must acknowledge that they were subjects 
of what we should call fundamental importance in 
the christian dispensation. If, then, the early dis- 
ciples could remain under such gross misappre- 
hensions on these subjects, and yet be regarded as 
the sincere followers and friends of Christ, it is 
surely too presumptuous in us to say of one an- 
other, that a denial of this or that tenet, which to 
us appears plainly revealed, is yet inconsistent with 
another man's religious sincerity, or a state of ac- 
ceptance with God. It may be that unity of sen- 
timent as far as some would wish to carry it, has 
become necessary to unity of affection ; but we 
ought to inquire whether we are not wrong in har- 
boring that temper of mind, which makes this uni- 
ty of opinion necessary to christian affection. You 
perhaps have attained to certain fundamental 



238 SERMON XV. 

principles of christian belief, which appear to you 
so clear, that you are astonished how any one who 
reads the scriptures can for a moment doubt them. 
You are conscious of your own sincerity, and it is 
enough; and therefore it is natural for you to 
conclude that he who does not think like yourself 
cannot be sincere. But let us remember that 
when we once begin to make that a test of others' 
sincerity which we know would have been of our 
own, we go beyond our christian liberty ; for no 
one but God has a right to say what is fundamental 
to any individual, or what extravagances or er- 
rors may coexist with humility and honesty of 
mind. 

3. Religious sincerity is not inconsistent with 
occasional lapses, or considerable infirmities. 
There is no man upon earth who doth good and 
sinneth not ; and if God should be strict to mark 
iniquity even in the most sincere, who could stand 
before him ? Thus it may happen that the most 
devout Christian may find his affections sometimes 
languid and his thoughts sometimes wandering ; 
but if this were the habitual state of his mind in 
prayer, he would have reason to be alarmed, and 
we should doubt his sincerity. The meek may 
sometimes be betrayed into passion, and the 
temperate into excessive indulgence ; but the proof 
of his insincerity in such cases would be, not that 
he fell into the sin, but that he fell into it without 
remorse, or exposed himself again without pre- 
caution. There are some faults to which the most 



SINCERITY. 239 

ardent and open dispositions are peculiarly expos- 
ed, and there are others of the habitual temper 
which never appear in the ordinary and public de- 
portment. If, then, you would know what faults of 
your character may excite a doubt of the sincerity 
of your religious professions, be assured that your 
sudden infirmities of temper are not half so sure 
a test of your religion, as what may be called your 
ruling passion and tenor of life. 

4. Religious sincerity is not inconsistent witli 
a man's doubts of his religious sincerity, or with a 
great degree of diffidence and concern. It is true 
that every man must know whether the regard 
which he pays to God and to his duty is affected 
or real. He must know whether his religious 
services are paid to God or to the world, and 
whether his conduct is only an outside show of 
conformity to virtue, or proceeds from a firm prin- 
ciple of rectitude within. This knowledge, how- 
ever, of his own spirit, is consistent with the most 
humble and fearful sense of imperfection, and 
with frequent depression and despondency. ' The 
heart is deceitful above all things and desperately 
wicked ; who can know it' ? By this is not meant, 
we conceive, that a Christian cannot judge of the 
sincerity of his own professions or of the state of 
his own determinations at the time when he con- 
siders, but only that such is the weakness of hu- 
man virtue, and such the liableness of man to 
conceal from himself his real character, that no 
man can at any time feel secure of his future 



240 SERMON XV. 

happiness. It is equivalent to the assertion that 
no man can say, I am sure of not being betrayed 
into any future transgression. 

The doctrine of confidence has often been in- 
sisted on most unadvisedly and unjustly, by some 
who make it an essential test of a christian charac- 
ter. As far as we may be allowed to judge, that 
kind of security and inward testimony of faith, to 
which some Christians have laid claim, is not 
consistent with that temper of fearing always, 
which is made a scriptural characteristic of a good 
man. Neither is it consistent with those expres- 
sions of the apostle Paul, who surely could have 
had no doubts of his own sincerity, where he says, 
Neither count I myself to have apprehended ; but 
this one thing I do, forgetting those things which 
are behind, and reaching forth unto those things 
which are before, I press toward the mark for the 
prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. 

May we not conclude, then, that a consciousness 
of sincerity in the service of God, is something 
entirely different from that assurance of salvation, 
and that confidence of God's favor, to which some 
Christians have aspired ? That mixture of humili- 
ty which belongs to real religion, is a mixture of 
fear ; and it never was intended that any convic- 
tion of our religious sincerity should entirely sub- 
due it, because no man can ever be sure that he 
shall not fall from his present steadfastness, nor can 
any man look back with unmingled satisfaction on 
his christian character. 



SINCERITY. 241 

II. I have now mentioned several imperfections 
with which religious sincerity may be united. I 
proceed to the second head of my discourse, which 
is to give you some of the most essential marks or 
tests of this temper. My christian friends, this 
is a subject of primary importance in religion. 
Without sincerity our obedience is sin ; without 
sincerity our religion is but vanity and guilt. We 
cannot deceive God ; we may deceive, perhaps we 
have deceived ourselves. Examine yourselves, 
then, whether you be in the faith ; prove your 
own souls. 

1. In the first place, you have great reason to 
doubt of your religious sincerity if you make no 
progress in holiness. Every principle of real vir- 
tue is an active and a progressive principle. It 
cannot leave a man satisfied with his present at- 
tainments ; and if you have ever found yourselves 
long stationary in your religious characters, the 
probability is that you have been retrograding. 
The path of the just is as the shining light, shining 
more and more unto the perfect day. He who 
carefully examines himself, cannot avoid discovering 
his imperfections, and he who is afraid to discover 
or negligent in the search, has no sincere disposi- 
tion to correct them. Whatever you may choose 
to call the ruling principle of a religious life, 
whether the fear or the love of God, whether it 
be gratitude, or humility, or ambition of intellec- 
tual improvement, all, all urge us forward to great- 
er attainments. Is it love ? Real love is never 
31 



242 SERMON XV. 

tired with pleasing its object, never at ease when 
it has suspicion of offending it. Is it gratitude ? 
Gratitude never thinks it has done enough. Hu- 
mility never feels itself secure, and the love of the 
intellectual always grasps at something higher. If 
then, my friends, you find in yourselves a disposi- 
tion to circumscribe the limits of your duty, if you 
find that you endeavour to steal as much as you can 
from your obligations, and give as much as you 
can well spare to the world and its pleasures, if 
you are continually comparing yourselves with 
others, and think you have done enough when you 
have done more than they, you have great reason 
to doubt the sincerity of your religion. 

2. In the second place, if your most secret and 
private actions are not as pure and correct as your 
public deportment, you have no claim to the praise 
of religious sincerity. I ask you, then, if your in- 
tercourse with God in private is devout ; or if 
your public reverence of religious institutions is 
only the result of your deference to the habits of 
the community ? I ask you if you prefer to give 
your alms in private, when no eye but God's dis- 
cerns it, to giving them in public, where spectators 
will allow you the credit of the alms ; or whether 
you are not uneasy, till, by your own or others' 
means, your benefactions are known ? I ask you 
if, in your most trivial negotiations, you are as scru- 
pulous and honest as in your large and notorious 
transactions ; whether the absolute security from 
detection would not tempt you into anything like 



SINCERITY. 243 

injustice ? I ask you if your conduct in your 
families and with those over whom you have con- 
trol or with whom you are intimate, is as careful- 
ly regulated hy the laws of christian benevolence 
as you would lead us to believe from your public 
conduct; or are you a Christian in church and a 
tyrant at home ? In short, is your religion a spirit 
which animates you, and which gives peace to 
your heart, and not a countenance which you as- 
sume ? Would it be the guide of your life if there 
were no one to observe you but Him who seeth 
not as man seeth ? 

3. Is your obedience universal and unlimited ? 
This is a most essential test of religious sincerity. 
Do you make no exceptions in favor of particular 
vices, and continue to live in some habits which 
your conscience tells you are not precisely right ? 
The meaning of that passage in James, ' Whoso- 
ever shall keep the whole law and yet offend in 
one point, he is guilty of all,' includes this test of 
religious obedience. Why guilty of all ? Because, 
if he deliberately and habitually makes an excep- 
tion in favor of some passion, lust, or habit, he 
discovers that he really has no sincere respect 
for the authority which establishes the whole 
law. 

There are several cases in human life which 
may illustrate the nature of the principle of reli- 
gious obedience. What should we, for instance, 
think of the sincerity of that man's friendship, who 
should make all the professions of attachment, and 



244 SERMON XV. 

appear through the greater part of his life devoted 
to his friend, who should yet deliberately desert 
him in his time of need, or betray, when tempted, 
one only of his most important secrets ? Thus no 
course of religious obedience has any claim to the 
praise of sincerity, which is not unlimited and 
without reserve. A religious man will not say, ; I 
am not guilty of this or of that offence, but I hope 
God will pardon me for a particular habit, which 
I find it difficult to relinquish.' Neither will he 
say, ' I. am sensible of the guilt of a particular 
course of conduct, and if God spares my life I will 
break off at such a future time.' Oh no ! my dear 
friends, this is the most horrible hypocrisy. It is 
such trifling as nothing can atone for. The man 
of this partial obedience, and the man who is con- 
tinually deferring the day of his repentance, is yet 
in the gall of wickedness and the bond of iniquity. 
Lastly ; what appears to you the governing mo- 
tive of your conduct ? In those portions of your 
character, in which your zeal is most engaged and 
your exertions most strenuous, what is your object ? 
the promotion of your own interests and the in- 
terests of your party, or the benefit of mankind, 
the glory of God and the cause of virtue ? How 
far is your sense of your duty to God predomi- 
nant in your life ? Does it lead you to sacrifice 
your property and your reputation and whatever 
you hold most dear, where you are most evidently 
pledged, or have you contrived to conceal even 
from yourself the real motives of your behaviour, 



SINCERITY. 245 

and to avail yourself of the name of religion and 
of God's honor, when you have nothing of them 
but the name ? In short, is not your reverence for 
God, your sense of religious obligation, affected 
by the changes of the age and the character of 
your cotemporaries ? Are you on the Lord's side, 
even if you stand alone ? 

My friends, this subject of sincerity is of infinite 
importance to us. It is the foundation, the grand 
preliminary of a religious character. It is indis- 
pensable to the acceptance of any of our services. 
Without it our religion is our condemnation, our 
observances and rites are the records of our sin. 
Without this, it is impossible to have any satisfac- 
tion in duty ; religion will be our burden, God our 
terror, our consciences our stings, and death will 
overwhelm us with inconceivable dismay. With 
this only can we assure our hearts before God. 
For if our hearts condemn us, God is greater than 
our hearts and knoweth all things. But, beloved, 
if our hearts condemn us not, then have we confi- 
dence toward God. God is greater than our 
hearts and knoweth all things. 

My christian friends, especially you who are now 
to sit down at the table of the Lord, grace be 
with you who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sin- 
cerity. This, this is that wedding garment with- 
out which you cannot be welcome, without which, 
indeed, yon cannot enjoy the feast. Your sincerity 
here you must test by the disposition with which 
you celebrate the supper. Have you a sense of 



246 SERMON XV. 

the reason for which it was instituted, and do 
you observe it because Christ has instituted it ? 
Do no unworthy motives mingle with your con- 
duct ? Does this regard for Christ's authority 
pacify your minds, and give you a happy satisfac- 
tion in the discharge of this duty, which the opin- 
ion of the world does not interrupt? Do you 
cherish no secret inclinations to dispense with the 
rite, or take to yourselves no peculiar merit in 
the performance ? Are you sensible of that good- 
ness and greatness which you commemorate, and 
do you seek for those benefits and no others which 
this rite is calculated to give ? Have you a sense 
of the mercy of God in the scheme of human re- 
demption, and are you sincere in your dispositions 
of love toward your fellow Christians ? If so, come 
forward in full assurance of faith, rejoicing in 
the testimony of your conscience that in simplicity 
and godly sincerity and not with fleshly wisdom, 
you keep the feast. Draw near with a true heart 
and without dissimulation. 



SERMON XVI. 



THE PECULIAR BLESSINGS OF OUR SOCIAL CONDITION AS 
AMERICAN CITIZENS. 



Mark, V. 19. 

GO HOME TO THY FRIENDS, AND TELL THEM HOW GREAT THINGS 
THE LORD HATH DONE FOR THEE . 

The poor man to whom this was said, had been 
cured by Jesus of a most fearful disorder, and so 
affected was he with gratitude, that he instantly 
resolved to attach himself to his benefactor, and 
spend with him the remainder of his life. < No,' 
said our Lord, ' rather go home to thy family and 
friends in Decapolis, and tell them what great 
things God hath done for thee.' We are told that 
he obeyed, and began to proclaim openly in his 
native country, and among his domestic friends^ 
the compassion and kindness of Jesus. 

I wish, at this time, my friends, to call your at- 
tention, not so much to our public advantages, as 
to our private, personal, and social blessings. If 
we would awaken our sensibility to the innumera- 
ble blessings of our condition, we must not take too 
wide a range ; we must limit our vision to some 



248 SERMON XVI. 

near and definite objects, lest, taking too exten- 
sive a survey, we should view everything indistinct- 
ly, and remember nothing with precision in the 
boundlessness of God's benevolence. 

There is a class of blessings, which, because we 
have so long enjoyed them, we are tempted to for- 
get that we possess, and to regard as the constant 
and immutable laws of our condition, rather than 
as favors no less extraordinary than they are un- 
merited. I mean the peculiar circumstances of 
our social and domestic life ; circumstances to 
which no man can say that he has especially con- 
tributed, for they are the result of God's good 
providence, watching over former events and ear- 
ly habits, rather than of any foresight and judg- 
ment of our own. I am the more induced to make 
these the subject of our grateful review, because 
from their silent, unobtrusive, and permanent na- 
ture, they are not apt at any one time to make a 
peculiarly forcible impression, and they are in 
danger of being overlooked, because they are so 
uniform and quiet, except by a mind tenderly and 
piously alive to the goodness of God. The truth 
is, that we are very much in the habit of keeping 
ourselves in ignorance of the real sources of our 
happiness. The unexpected events of life, and 
much more those on which we calculate, are far 
from being those which constitute its real enjoy- 
ment. Even events of public good fortune, which 
call forth the most frequent and audible acknow- 
ledgements, are really not those which contribute 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 249 

most to our personal well-being ; and much less do 
we depend for our most valuable happiness, on what 
we call fortunate occurrences, or upon the multipli- 
cation of our public amusements, or the excite- 
ment, the novelty, the ecstasy, which we make so 
essential to our pleasures, and for which we are 
always looking out with impatience. It is not the 
number of the great, dazzling, affecting, and much 
talked of pleasures, which makes up the better 
part of our substantial happiness, but it is the del- 
icate, unseen, quiet, and ordinary comforts of so- 
cial and domestic life, for the loss of which all 
that the world has dignified with the name of plea- 
sure would not compensate us. Let any man in- 
quire for a single day, what it is which has employ- 
ed and satisfied him, and which really makes him 
love life, and he will find that the sources of his 
happiness lie within a very narrow compass. He 
will find that he depends almost entirely on the 
agreeable circumstances which God has made to 
lie all around hirn, and which fill no place in the 
record of public events. Indeed, we may say of 
human happiness what Paul quotes for a more sa- 
cred purpose, * It is not hidden from thee ; neither 
is it far off; it is not in heaven that thou shouldst 
say, Who shall go up for us to heaven, and bring it 
unto us that we may enjoy it ; neither is it beyond 
the sea, that thou shouldst say, Who shall go over 
the sea for us, and bring it unto us, but it is nigh 
thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart.' 



32 



250 SERMON XVI. 

I. In the first place there is an extraordinary de- 
gree of tranquillity and security always attending 
our social condition, which constitutes much of its 
value. Repose, it is true, is not always a bles- 
sing ; certainly not where it is the repose of deso- 
lation, of insensibility, or the threatening stillness 
which precedes the whirlwind. But where it is 
the result, as ours is, of peculrar habits and local 
circumstances, of which almost the whole world 
may be envious, and for which at this moment 
millions are praying, it deserves to be most grate- 
fully acknowledged. It is this singular tranquillity, 
which gives to our external and intellectual advan- 
tages unspeakable worth. There are other coun- 
tries, in which much more wealth is accumulated, 
but where the proprietor trembles while he casts 
up his treasure, and grasps it the closer, not so 
much from avarice as fear. There are countries, 
where you may find more numerous refinements, 
society more intellectual, polished, and advanced ; 
but where do you find minds so entirely at ease, 
where communication so unshackled by appre- 
hension, where opinion so little fettered by cus- 
tom or power, and man so much the master of his 
pleasures, his means, his language, and even his 
thoughts ? Our social intercourse is nowhere dis- 
turbed with apprehension. We enjoy what we 
have, almost without forethought, not because we 
know not but we may be dispoiled of it tomor- 
row, but because we have a sentiment of its du- 
ration. The noise of war has been rolling con- 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 251 

tinually at what seems an indefinite distance, and, 
instead of disturbing, it has rather, like the thun- 
der of an evening cloud that has passed over, con- 
tributed to our deeper repose. We hear of the 
disasters of other nations, and we sometimes trem- 
ble for them with benevolent apprehensions and 
hopes ; but it is not because we have a child or a 
friend exposed to the dreadful hazards of battle ; 
it is not because we are doubtful whether the event 
may not have decided the fate of our property, our 
liberty, or our comfort, but because we feel a nat- 
ural interest in their sufferings, which cannot and 
ought not to be extinguished. We seem to feel 
a permanency in everything around us, and a se- 
curity which we hardly know how to explain. 
Whence then this peace and order ? To whom 
are we indebted for them ? Can any man say that 
he has essentially contributed to their continu- 
ance ? If we ascribe them to our peculiar habits 
and manners and government, we must acknow- 
ledge the. good providence of God, directing the 
circumstances which have established this securi- 
ty. Go hence and tell thy friends, who it is that 
hath preserved peace in thy borders, and learn to 
trust not in thyself, but in Him. 

II. Our social and domestic condition is, sec- 
ondly, distinguished by a diffusion of competence 
and of the means of prosperity, in which every 
man has a share. Where do we find families, or 
individuals, who do not, in some comfortable de- 
gree, partake of all the essential comforts, which 



252 SERMON XVI. 

wealth can procure ? Who is driven out of society 
because he is too poor to partake, in some form, 
of its pleasures ? Every morning's sun, as it rises, 
brings to every man a provision for the day, or 
lights him to the means of procuring it. How 
much may be retrenched from every station in 
society, before poverty can be even perceptible ? 
and how much more, before we should hear the 
cry of want ? Who among us returns in the eve- 
ning to his family, to have his heart broken by the 
cries of his children clinging to his knees for 
bread ? Whose sleep is disturbed by the thin 
phantoms of tomorrow's difficulties? So general 
is our prosperity, that if we would find distress 
we must look for it ; it does not obtrude itself 
upon our notice. The miseries which really exist, 
do not throng upon us so fast that the hand of 
charity is exhausted before it can effectually re- 
lieve them. We see frequent changes from luxury 
to mediocrity, but how faint and rare is the cry of 
real and incurable wretchedness. Contrivances 
for comfort meet us at every door we enter. Every- 
where the table is spread, and the cup is filled ; 
everywhere, we find men ascending from conven- 
ience to comfort, to neatness, to elegance, to luxu- 
ry, to profusion. No one is cast out because he 
is unable to support his place in this continually 
ascending feast of abundance. The wants that 
are felt, are rather the cravings of appetites that 
have been pampered, or of ambition too much 
excited, than of real poverty. In the prodigious 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 253 

extent of an unoccupied country behind us, there 
seems to be left a common fund for every man's 
exigences. The reduced and the unfortunate 
change their residence, and if we hear of them 
again, it is only to hear of their prosperity. We 
look around for the poor, and we meet with here 
and there the infirm, the diseased, the aged, the 
imprudent, and the profligate foreigner, but for 
native, irremediable want, we search in vain. In- 
stead of poverty, we find, indeed, discontent, envy, 
avarice, overreaching, and profuseness ; and we 
are told of disappointments and bankruptcies, but 
these are the miseries of abundance, not of indi- 
gence. 

If you would know your own happiness, contrast 
with it the condition of those parts of the world, 
where the reduced and humbled man of wealth 
and of rank looks round in vain for the means of 
employment ; where the poor are deprived of all 
the real comforts of society, and compressed into 
manufactories, mines, hospitals, and prisons, or 
driven into armies, and left to perish unsought, 
unwept, unremembered ; and then go home, for 
you have a home, and to your friends, for even 
these your poverty will gain you, and tell them 
what great things the Lord has done for you. Truly 
the lines have fallen to us in pleasant places, and 
we have a goodly heritage. 

III. A third characteristic of our social condi- 
tion, is the general diffusion of the means of ob- 
taining knowledge, from which results that intel- 



254 SERMON XVI. . 

lectual cultivation which is better than wealth, and 
which gives the highest interest to social life. In 
this region of our country, if we look round for 
the ignorant we shall find them indeed without 
trouble ; but if we look for those who are con- 
demned by disadvantages of birth and situation to 
unavoidable ignorance, we shall search in vain. 
Here no man, who feels the intimations of his 
intellectual life, and begins to pant after knowledge 
and truth, need waste away in hopeless obscurity, 
shut out from the means of knowledge and se- 
cluded from the society of the intelligent. What is 
peculiar in our society, is, that nothing debars any 
one from reaching, if he pleases, the highest de- 
gree of intellectual improvement ; nothing forbids 
his sharing in any refinement or excellence, which 
he is capable of enjoying. Such is the equality 
of conditions among us, that the intelligent and 
the unintelligent mingle everywhere together ; 
every man gives and receives according to his 
gifts, and each shares in the peculiar improve- 
ments of all. We have no monopoly of informa- 
tion ; the rich and the poor, the mechanic and 
the merchant, the ignorant and the learned, the 
idle, the inquisitive, and the laborious student, 
may all go and drink at the same springs ; and 
there is kept in continual circulation a fund of 
intellectual riches, which every man may use, and 
to which he is not debarred from contributing. 

The actual amount of intellectual wealth, and 
the enjoyment derived from it in general society, 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 255 

may be very much surpassed, as it undoubtedly is, 
in other countries. But here nothing restrains the 
eagerness of curiosity, nothing frowns upon the 
free exercise of the powers, in conversation, in 
writing, and in speaking; and how much is there 
continually within our reach, to refine, to soften, 
to elevate, and to delight us ! From how much 
weariness are we thus relieved ! How many va- 
cant hours are thus employed ! How many sor- 
rows soothed, and spirits elevated ! How many 
minds lifted out of the dust ! How much sensu- 
ality is thus wiped away, and how much is added 
to the value of human life ! Those who know 
how much the love of knowledge tends to correct 
the follies of society, to purify its pleasures, to 
preserve from vicious amusements, and to fill up 
the vacant spaces of active life, will feel grateful 
for the state of society, where no man need be 
ashamed to appear well informed, nor is any man 
obliged to bear the mortifying burden of his igno- 
rance, longer than he chooses. 

IV. Closely connected with these great advanta- 
ges of our intellectual condition, and indeed, form- 
ing the most valuable part of them, are the blessings 
of our religion. I cannot express to you the sense 
which I have of the value of that influence on 
society, which yet flows from our ancient habits 
of thinking on this most interesting subject. I 
am ready to exclaim with the ardent Zecharias ; 
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath 
visited and redeemed his people, according to the 



256 SERMON XVI. 

t 

mercy promised to our fathers, in that he hath 
granted unto us, that we, being delivered out of 
the hands of our enemies, may serve him without 
fear, in holiness and righteousness all the days of 
our life. When you consider, my christian hear- 
ers, of what importance is a sense of religion to 
the good order and purity of our social intercourse, 
you will thank God, that so much of it has been 
imperceptibly retained among us. For it is this, 
which will give to society a degree of security 
and impart to it a confidence, of which no other 
sentiment or principle can supply the place ; and 
where this exists, free, pure, rational, conscientious, 
and devout, it gives to the character a tone of 
dignity and freedom, which no accomplishment 
can bestow. When you think how easy it is, nay, 
how common it has been, to make religion the 
bane and terror of social life, the destroyer of 
everything kind and generous, the source of the 
most depressing superstition, bitter jealousy, and 
malignant passions, your hearts ought to be filled 
with gratitude at the circumstances of New En- 
gland. What are we, or what were our fathers, 
that we should enjoy a toleration the most perfect, 
which nothing but the bad passions of individuals 
can disturb ; a freedom of worship and of opinion, 
which smiles at the powerless impositions of men ; 
and a general liberality of thinking, which has an 
unobserved influence upon many who do not ac- 
knowledge it ; and that with all this, notwithstand- 
ing the growth of our luxury, and the temptations 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 257 

of our good fortune, we should yet retain so much 
respect for the institutions of the gospel, and so 
much sense of its indispensable value to society ? 
When I think of all these peculiarities of our re- 
ligious condition, and ask how they have arisen, 
I can find no other answer, than that the good 
Providence of God alone has preserved to us such 
an inheritance of blessings. 

Let me lead you, last of all, back to your fami- 
lies, and refresh you with the sight of the blessings 
of your domestic life. Indeed, if I were to search 
for a spot where you could best observe the effect 
of the blessings we have already enumerated, and 
best feel the peculiar happiness of your social 
condition, I should only open the door to your own 
firesides, and place you in the circle of your chil- 
dren and your friends. There it is, indeed, that 
you ought to enjoy the united influences of all the 
other advantages we have mentioned. If you are 
not happy there, the fault is not in your circum- 
stances, but in your dispositions. For when we 
consider the enviable state of the domestic rela- 
tions among us, of husband and wife, of parents 
and children, we are at a loss to suggest any im- 
provement, except in the use of these advantages. 
Notwithstanding the rapid encroachment of luxury, 
it has not yet so corrupted our modes of life under 
the pretence of refining them, that parents are 
daily separated from their children. You may at 
any time, collect them around you, refresh your- 
selves with their innocence, watch their budding 
33 



258 SERMON XVI. 

talents and virtues, and enjoy their happiness. The 
intercourse between you and your offspring is not 
disturbed by any foolish customs and formalities ; 
no rights of primogeniture enter, to kindle jealou- 
sies and coldness. As they grow up successively, 
they gradually pass into your companions, your 
friends, and at last your counsellors ; perhaps 
your stay and consolation. So abundant are 
our means of living, that your children are not 
driven unprovided for from the paternal roof, to 
seek elsewhere a precarious support. No officer 
of despotism bursts open your doors, to drag the 
reluctant youth to be sacrificed on the field of 
battle, nor does every mail bring you intelligence, 
which makes your heart bleed, of some new ex- 
posures or new sufferings which they are called 
to endure. So various and accessible are our 
means of education, also, that parents may always 
have some new pleasures in expectation from the 
improvement of their children. Soon they become 
qualified to partake of your own intellectual pur- 
suits. Their curiosity keeps yours awake, their im- 
provement rewards you ; and the domestic circle 
every day brightens with new accessions in intelli- 
gence and pleasure. Thus they grow up with you 
at home ; and here, at least, this blessed name yet 
expresses a reality, a substantial good, a sanctuary, 
a refuge from the troubles of life, the very centre 
of our national happiness. And when the fear and 
love of God dwell under your roofs, when his 
worship purifies, and makes holy these domestic 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 259 

enjoyments, when your prayers, as they ascend 
morning and evening, draw closer the sacred ties 
of parent and child, brother and sister — bat I 
need not dwell on the minutise of your blessings, 
I need not paint, what your hearts, if they are 
rightly attempered, will represent to you with more 
vividness and reality. Go home then, for you 
have a home, and tell your children what great 
things God has done for us. 

This recital of our blessings, however grateful it 
may be to the mind, is yet attended with two con- 
siderations, which press upon our attention. The 
first is, how little have we ourselves contributed to 
these advantages. They seem in truth to be the 
gifts of Providence alone, for we can hardly trace 
them to any positive causes. When we reflect 
upon our social and domestic lot, one thing is al- 
ways evident, that if all the good we find can be 
traced to the care of a most gracious Providence, 
all the evil to which we are exposed may be trac- 
ed directly to those passions, which the most fa- 
vorable state of society cannot always suppress, 
to those corruptions which grow, alas ! and ripen 
under the very sunshine of our prosperity. The 
other consideration which may make us all trem- 
ble, is how long shall this state of prosperity last ? 
Has God given us a pledge of uninterrupted secu- 
rity and good fortune ? or does not its continu- 
ance depend much upon ourselves ? If the cup of 
our prosperity intoxicates us, will it not fall at last 
from our hands and be dashed in pieces ? 



260 SERMON XVI. 

My friends, let us think before we part, of the 
duties which our very happiness imposes upon us. 
Ought we not, first of all, most gratefully and 
humbly to adore the distinguishing goodness of 
God ? Perhaps we have hitherto overlooked the 
real foundation of our happiness ; perhaps if we 
have been sensible of the good, we have not 
thought of the Author. We have entered this 
garden of God, and carelessly cropped the flow- 
ers with which it is filled, and thought them plant- 
ed only for our gratification. This is not the con- 
dition on which any of God's gifts are bestowed. 

Our common prosperity is indeed unexam- 
pled, but it is not out of the reach of injury. 
While it lasts, it is the duty of every man to con- 
tribute what he can to preserve it. If you would 
advance the glory of your age, and make it worthy 
of being remembered by those who shall come af- 
ter you, beware of the encroachments of luxury. 
Nothing will so much tend to make you insensible 
to the best gifts of Providence, and callous to the 
purest pleasures of life, as the love of noisy and friv- 
olous distinctions, the pursuit of vicious pleasures, 
and the tyranny of fashion. Consider whether you 
do not contribute to the corruptions of the age, by 
an immoderate pursuit of amusement. Consider 
how easily the minds of those who are coming into 
life, are enfeebled and deluded by the doubtful ex- 
amples of those whom they are taught to consider 
as giving the tone to the manners of the age. 



OUR BLESSINGS AS AMERICANS. 26 1 

To preserve our social pleasures in any good 
degree of purity, nothing will so much contribute 
as the cultivating a taste for domestic life and the 
quiet and affectionate pleasures which it affords. 
In such a state of society as ours, also, there is 
danger lest the love of money, or of merely sensu- 
al idleness, should overwhelm the rising genera- 
tion. To obviate these evils it is much to be de- 
sired, that the love of literature and of intellectu- 
al pursuits should be greatly encouraged ; for 
though the passion for knowledge is no proof of a 
principle of virtue, it is often a security against the 
vices and temptations of the world. Everything 
which you contribute to the institutions of sound 
learning and to promote a correct and pious edu- 
cation, you contribute to the peace, the purity, and 
the glory of the age. 

Once more, my friends. What a treasure of 
felicity you have in keeping ! And by you it is to 
be bequeathed to those who are to be your succes- 
sors, in a long posterity. Let your thoughts run 
on a few years in prospect, and can you endure to 
see those whom you have brought into life, whom 
you have trained up to fill your places, and whose 
destiny you now influence, can you endure to see 
them spoiling this rich inheritance, and then re- 
proaching your memories ? Can you look, with- 
out remorse, and see them taking their places in 
society, depraved by your example, lost to virtue, 
to peace, and to Heaven ? 






262 SERMON XVI. 

Do not think you have discharged your obliga- 
tions when you have laid up for them a perishable 
inheritance on earth, when you have given them 
a customary education, and set them up in life. 
Oh no ! God, who watches over our employment 
of his gifts, demands of you, not only that you de- 
dicate your children to him, but that you implant 
in them his fear and love, that you furnish them 
with the only sure sources of happiness, by your 
lessons of piety, by your example at home and in 
public, and by your prayers with them and for 
them. Without this you may leave them the wealth 
of the world, and it will only curse them ; you 
may leave them the rank, the glory, the reputation 
of their fathers, and it will only render them 
the decorated victims of the indignation of Heav- 
en. Consider, then, what obligations to others 
your privileges impose upon you. Walk within 
your houses with a perfect heart. Make them the 
nurseries of godliness, resolve that from this day 
you will not neglect this most solemn of your du- 
ties, and then with a grateful heart tell your friends 
what great things God has done for you. 



SERMON XVII 



THE PRACTICABLENESS OF THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 
Hebrews, III. 1. 

WHEREFORE, HOLY BRETHREN, PARTAKERS OF THE HEAVENLY CAL- 
LING, CONSIDER THE APOSTLE AND HIGH PRIEST OF OUR PROFES- 
SION, JESUS CHRIST. 

When we rise from the contemplation of the 
character of Jesus, it is with a mixture of trans- 
port and of despair ; of transport at finding that 
such immaculate excellence was embodied and 
exhibited in a human form, and despair lest it 
should be impossible to imitate it in the present 
mixed condition of human life. I know not how 
any man can take up any one of the gospels and 
read it through, without feeling that there is some- 
thing supernatural about the character of Jesus, 
without catching at intervals a glimpse of that 
divinity which seems to encircle him, or perceiv- 
ing the truth and nature of the Centurion's excla- 
mation, when he heard the last expression which 
escaped from the lips of the dying Saviour, ' Truly 
this was the Son of God.' 



264 SERMON XVII. 

The moral character of Jesus is distinguished 
from that of every other teacher's upon record, 
by this peculiar circumstance, that it united excel- 
lences which are usually thought irreconcilable or 
which are very rarely found conjoined in any indi- 
vidual. Endued as he was with power which was 
calculated to impress beholders with the most rev- 
erential awe, he united with this a familiarity which 
admitted on easy terms of communication, all the 
grades and classes of society. He knew how to 
effect, also, that rare union of zeal with candor, 
which we seek in vain in other celebrated reform- 
ers. He combined, too, the utmost activity with 
a prudence which never deserted him, and irresist- 
ible power with unassuming gentleness. Look at 
his character from one point of view, and you 
would think he was formed only to suffer ; from 
another, and he appears destined only to act. He 
was sensible of his high character and pretensions, 
yet meek and gentle and unresisting. Though he 
abated not from the rigor of his Father's requisi- 
tions, yet he was the preacher of a religion which 
offers relief to the burdened and succor to the 
miserable. In one word, he brought together in 
his character the utmost perfection of opposite, 
I might almost say, incompatible excellences. 

To dwell upon the character of Jesus, is the de- 
light of every Christian, not merely because it 
confirms his faith, but because it has a salutary 
effect upon his own character and disposition, and 
those advanced Christians who have satisfied them- 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 285 

selves of the historical truth of Christianity, re- 
pose afterwards upon their original convictions, 
while their faith is continually strengthening itself, 
not merely by time and habit, but by those irre- 
sistible impressions which are made by a frequent 
and diligent reading of the New Testament. 

It was no small part of the great design of God, 
when he interposed to reveal himself among men 
by his Son, to give us a living, visible specimen of 
human nature, such as it may become when the 
operation of the gospel has its full influence. 
Hence it is a remarkable circumstance in the char- 
acter of Jesus, that, though he was so intimately 
united with God, and had power committed to him 
in heaven and in earth, his example is in every 
moral respect strictly practicable. It is an exam- 
ple to men in every condition. It teaches us how 
to live on earth, as well as to prepare ourselves 
for heaven. In every useful point of view it is 
accommodated to the imitation of common men. 

It is my intention in this discourse to consider 
what may be called its practicableness ; that is, its 
practicableness as an example of social virtue held 
up to the imitation of such beings as we are. 

In the first place, consider how completely this 
example would be marred and rendered ineffectu- 
al, or even dangerous, if the most piercing scrutiny 
had discovered a single stain in the character of 
Jesus ; I do not say if such a stain had really ex- 
isted, but even if it had appeared from the narra- 
tions that there was anything which wore the ap- 
34 



266 SERMON XVII. 

pearance of immorality. The difficulty would be 
insuperable even supposing it to arise merely from 
some defect in our knowledge of the circumstances 
of the case. We should labor under a burden 
which nothing could remove, because it might be 
said that no Christian was obliged to follow a mas- 
ter as divine, who had discovered a deficiency in 
that purity which he had made the object of his 
religion. In this respect, as in many others, the 
character of Christ remains eternally distinguished 
from that of any other teacher in the history of 
the world. It is not merely from the accounts of 
his friends that we venture to make this assertion, 
but it is conceded even by his enemies. In all the 
busy murmurs of history about the characters of 
men, not a whisper can be distinguished which ca- 
lumniates the founder of our faith. Compare with 
this the character of Socrates, who, great and 
good as he was, and often as he is made the 
theme of philosophical declamation and imperti- 
nent comparison with Jesus, was more than sus- 
pected of indulging in some of the fashionable 
vices of his age and country. And the divine Tlato 
is not more clear of imputations. Need I mention 
the character of Mahomet ; the privilege which he 
claimed of peculiar indulgence, his notorious sen- % 
suality, as well as his personal ambition ? This list 
might be enlarged, if it were necessary, by the 
names of the most eminent philosophers of anti- 
quity. 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 267 

The singular usefulness of the example of our 
Saviour appears, secondly, in this, that his whole 
life, as far as we are acquainted with it, was a life 
of active and substantial goodness. All his purpo- 
ses were benevolent, all his practice disinterested. 
If he had not had it expressly in view to exempli- 
fy the great precept of his religion, that no man 
liveth to himself, he might have merely declared 
the purpose of his mission and confirmed it by 
some splendid prodigies. If it had not been one 
great part of his mediation to leave us a perfect 
character of goodness, why should he have led 
such a laborious life of kindness ? He never 
wrought a miracle without some gracious effect or 
moral purpose. He was indefatigable in relieving 
the real wants of men, in curing those diseases 
which human art could not reach, in assuaging 
their most distressing sorrows, in restoring to them 
their most essential comforts, as well as, in some 
instances, administering to their convenience and 
contributing to their pleasures. He does not 
merely tell them what they ought to do ; he does 
not content himself with merely reproaching them 
for their sins and railing at their ignorance, but 
he does all in his power to instruct in the most 
condescending, and to correct in the gentlest man- 
ner, their unfortunate prejudices. Whatever pe- 
riod we assign to our Saviour's ministry, it was a 
space crowded with acts of essential goodness. 

I will proceed now to mention some of the traits 
in the character of Jesus, which bear upon the 



268 SERMON XVII. 

main subject which I would keep in view, the 
practicableness of his example. 

His conversation and conduct are complete 
specimens of what may be called coolness and 
soundness of mind, qualities indispensably neces- 
sary in one who would do good to the best effect, 
without defeating his own purposes by precipitan- 
cy, or endangering his life by imprudence. He 
discovers at all times a disposition to avoid dan- 
gers where it was consistent with his duty, but he 
encounters the most dreadful hazards when the 
destination of his Heavenly Father made it ne- 
cessary for the accomplishment of his purposes. 
He does not, like a rash enthusiast, throw himself 
in the way of persecution, for in many places of 
his history we find him withdrawing himself from 
the pressure of the multitude and the observation 
of his enemies, when such an exposure would 
have precipitated the fatal catastrophe which he 
had constantly in view. He escapes with the ut- 
most prudence from the ensnaring questions of 
the rulers, and does not, in the heat or the pride 
of his commission, permit himself to be embroiled 
in a controversy or a tumult. His replies are al- 
ways judicious, his courage is perfectly sedate and 
without the least symptom of timidity. It is also 
plain that his boldness is not the effect of passion. 
In short he displays that very temper which he, 
who would do any great and singular good in a 
difficult world, must possess. 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 269 

It is often the misfortune of those who have the 
most ardent love of mankind and the most disin- 
terested spirit of philanthropy, that their zeal is 
misguided, their courage borders on rashness, their 
passions are the first guides which they follow. 
Their best designs are therefore sometimes defeat- 
ed by imprudence resulting from excess of virtu- 
ous ardor. Such is the imperfection of human 
exertion. But in our Saviour we discover a 
warmth of goodness which never enkindles and 
consumes itself; an intrepidity which never sought 
for approbation ; a presence of mind which was 
never surprised by the arts of his enemies, which 
was never lost in a moment of indignation. 

There is another class of good men in the world, 
who, with the best dispositions to do good, and 
with a sincere concern for the character of others, 
have yet not sufficient resolution to meet difficul- 
ties, nor fortitude to bear reproach, in the service 
of truth and virtue. They talk well, but they dare 
not act. They wish to see a change, but dare not 
appear alone in any important measure, or even 
to take a share of that danger and suffering which 
must always belong to active integrity or great en- 
terprises. Not so was the Saviour of the world. 
He kept no terms with corruption, he made no 
excuses for hypocrisy, and propitiated not the re- 
sentment of guilty men of power. He knew 
how to meet the eye of hardened guilt, without 
fear of man, when he was discharging his duty, 
and without transgressing the obligations of a cit- 



270 SERMON XVII. 

izen or a subject. He did not utter his censures 
in private, and then fly from the consequences of 
his opinions, but he met iniquity in front, and ap- 
pealed for the truth of his reproaches to the con- 
sciences of those who heard him. Neither was he 
more indulgent to the faults of his friends, than 
to the crimes of his enemies. He was not afraid 
of losing them by reproving what was really vi- 
cious, or by warning them of their temptations and 
their weakness ; at the same time that he managed 
with the greatest address their unavoidable preju- 
dices, and mildly corrected their ambitious expec- 
tations. 

Again ; I would mention a trait in our Sav- 
iour's character which is peculiarly deserving our 
notice and imitation. I mean his constant supe- 
riority to motives of fame or reputation. The 
great sin, which pollutes even the most illustrious 
actions of men, is the mixture of vanity. We find 
it in characters otherwise almost faultless ; we de- 
tect it in our best services. We often resort to it 
in education, and we find that it exercises an un- 
sanctified influence where we should least expect 
it. When we discover it in others, it is with a 
sentiment of regret, which impairs our admiration, 
and when we detect it in ourselves, if our hearts 
are allowed to answer before God, it is with a sen- 
timent of mortification and humility. It is cer- 
tain, that the most exalted minds are most free 
from this mixture, and it is the first and last object 
of the gospel thoroughly to discharge it from our 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 271 

motives. Jesus was at an infinite distance from 
desiring to receive honor from men. Possessed 
of powers which could in an instant have drawn 
around him a body of enthusiastic and devoted 
followers and have elevated him to any station or 
authority he could desire, he is yet employed in 
teaching humility to a few ambitious disciples. 
When they would take him by force to make him 
a king, he escaped from them. He would not 
work a miracle merely to excite their admiration, 
and refused to give them the sign from heaven 
which they solicited. Not a word which he ever 
uttered, nor an action which he ever did, was cal- 
culated merely to excite applause. It seemed to 
be his care not to awaken any stupid wonder by 
singularity or austerity, or an imitation of the 
manner of popular teachers. 

But there are also in the conduct of Jesus marks 
of disinterestedness which are worthy of admira- 
tion. He uniformly evinces the utmost unconcern 
about his personal appearance and accommoda- 
tion. There is one instance of this which deserves 
to be pointed out. He had been engaged in earn- 
est conversation with a Samaritan woman. In 
the mean while, says the evangelist John, ' his dis- 
ciples prayed him, saying, Master, eat ; but he 
said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye know 
not of. Therefore said the disciples one to anoth- 
er, Hath any man brought him to eat ? Jesus saith 
unto them, My meat is to do the will of him that 
sent me, and to finish his work.' He discovers no 



272 SERMON XVII. 

inclination to increase his fortune or provide for 
his family. He seems to take pains to show that 
he was completely disengaged from all family influ- 
ence, because he had, in more than one instance, 
discovered a disposition in his relations to avail 
themselves of his character and to look to him for 
advancement. Hence the apparent harshness of 
his reply to those who told him that his mother 
and brethren were standing without, desirous to 
speak with him. He answers, ' Who is my mother, 
and who are my brethren ? And he stretched out 
his hand toward his disciples and said, Behold my 
mother and my brethren.' This indifference to his 
personal or family interests shows only that there 
was nothing worldly-minded in his character, not 
that there was any want of affection or of the feel- 
ings of consanguinity. On the contrary, we may 
safely challenge the records of true history or of 
the pathetic in fiction, to produce such specimens 
of inimitable tenderness and affection, as are con- 
tained in our Saviour's admirable discourses to his 
disciples just before his death. l Having loved his 
own that had continued with him, he loved them 
unto the end.' There is in these discourses that 
rare mixture of piety and tenderness, which is in- 
teresting beyond any other combination of human 
sentiments. The man who can read the last chap- 
ter of John without emotion, must be himself des- 
titute of piety, or insensible to the characteristics 
of a superior mind under the influence of strong 
affection. 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 273 

With his disciples, the most striking part of 
his conduct, is, I think, his wonderful patience. 
He found them enslaved by prejudices as invete- 
rate as those of the rest of his countrymen. It is 
true they had left all and followed him. But 
wherefore ? Not from any disinterested attach- 
ment to his cause, for they were every day expect- 
ing that he would assume the splendor of a tempo- 
ral prince, and assign them the highest dignities 
in his triumphant administration. Not from any 
love of the pure doctrines he inculcated, for they 
appear to have continued, even to the time of his 
ascension, ignorant of the spiritual nature of his 
mission. They were no doubt attracted at first by 
the miracles which he exhibited. They thought 
it safe to be found in the train of a teacher who 
seemed to have the elements at his disposal, and 
the laws of nature within his control. Hence our 
Saviour found it extremely difficult to give them 
any just expectations of the sufferings to which 
they would be exposed. He would discourse to 
them of humility, of suffering, of contempt, of 
painful exposures ; yet, their fancies were contin- 
ually employed in sketching out plans of his future 
royalty and their own advancement, and at the 
end of a discourse calculated to suppress all their 
ambitious imaginations, they could coolly ask him, 
which of them should be greatest ? Without ex- 
pressing any impatience, he would repeat again his 
lessons of meekness, and try, by every variety of 
instruction, to correct their presumptuous hopes. 
35 



274 SERMON XVII. 

Though they had been long with him, and had 
seen miracles enough to satisfy them at least of 
his ability to provide for any multitude of follow- 
ers, yet they are found murmuring and anxious 
because they had taken no bread, and were them- 
selves in a desert place. Jesus shows no resent- 
ment at their want of confidence, but simply asks 
them if they have forgotten the two instances in 
which he had fed thousands of followers from a 
few loaves. 

The behaviour of Jesus to Judas, is in particular 
a remarkable instance of the benignity and gener- 
ous patience of his character. Though he knew 
from the first that he was secretly forming his 
purposes of treachery, yet he forbears to expose 
the designs of the traitor to the rest of the little 
fraternity, lest, impelled by sudden indignation or 
a holy zeal for their Master's security, they should 
commit some act of rudeness, and thus drive him 
to some desperate attempt, or at least exclude 
him from all opportunity of repentance and con- 
version. He forbears even to excite the suspicion 
of the disciples against him, during the whole time 
he was with them, that he might not interrupt the 
harmony which prevailed in the little circle. 

In that distressing scene of his agony, when he 
begs them to watch with him through those mo- 
ments of inconceivable horror and anguish, when 
he retired to pray, he returns and finds them 
asleep. Instead of reproving, he even finds an 
excuse for them. You are fatigued and need this 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 275 

refreshment. < Sleep on now and take your rest.' 
How pure and unexceptionable must have been 
that partiality which he discovered to John, the 
beloved disciple, when we cannot find that it 
awakened any jealousy in the breasts of the ambi- 
tious fraternity, but, on the contrary, this young 
pupil in the school of Jesus could lean on the 
breast of his Master without offence, and Peter, 
who denied him, could be melted into contrition 
by a passing look ! Once we are told, that Jesus 
wept. It was at the grave of a friend whom he 
had long loved. And why did he weep? Not for 
the loss of Lazarus, for he knew that with a word 
he could restore him to life and present him to his 
mourning sisters. But he was melted by the signs 
of sorrow which they and the attending mourners 
discovered. He could not resist the contagion of 
sympathy. Mary and Martha, the disciples and 
the Jews were weeping around him, and the Son 
of God was moved also. It is indeed unexampled 
in the history of human character to find such 
industrious and active benevolence, and such con- 
sciousness of one's own powers, mingled with a 
passive tenderness of nature susceptible to all the 
emotions of sorrow. 

The social character of our Saviour, in his 
intercourse with the generation among whom he 
lived, deserves next to be considered. Such was 
our Saviour's mode of life that he was obliged to 
be much in company. Not having where to lay 
his head, he was frequently found at the tables of 
the rich and in the houses of his friends. 



276 SERMON XVII. 

The wonderful familiarity to which he admitted 
those who approached him, and the readiness with 
which he administered to the wants which were 
made known to him, are also striking traits in the 
social character of Jesus. The sense of his own 
superiority seems never for a moment to have 
obstructed the activity and the cheerfulness of his 
benevolence. He preserved the utmost frankness 
with the utmost civility and condescension. It 
was his delight to raise the humble, to encourage 
the timid, to place those whom the proud despis- 
ed, in the light of his favor, and to anticipate the 
requests of those who were fearful lest they should 
trouble him. 

It appears to have been one principal aim in the 
public character of Jesus, to do the greatest good 
in the most private and unobtrusive manner. ' He 
neither strove, nor cried, nor was his voice heard 
in the street. 5 Acting always upon the great 
principle that mercy was better than sacrifice, he 
did not scruple to violate the superstitious rigors 
with which the scribes had corrupted the sabbati- 
cal rest ; and he avoided encouraging any of those 
vexatious restrictions which the Jewish hierarchy 
had added to the original severity of the Mosaic 
institutions. It appears to have been his object 
to reform the Jewish nation without abolishing the 
moral law, and we cannot conclude from anything 
that is recorded of our Saviour, that it will be 
necessary for the Jewish nation, upon embracing 
Christianity, to relinquish the service of the syna- 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 277 

gogue, or the moral institutions of their great 
lawgiver. 

Lastly ; our Saviour has left us a pattern] of 
conduct in extreme suffering. The prospect of 
his death was evidently terrible to him. His prayers 
betray the agony of his mind. If he had posses- 
sed any tincture of enthusiasm, or of the infatuat- 
ed courage with which other martyrs have gone to 
the stake, we should have seen none of those symp- 
toms of excessive sensibility, which the evangelists, 
without disguise, ascribe to him. Yet with such 
impressions of his sufferings he attains at last a 
state of perfect acquiescence, deep resignation, 
and greatness in submission. He dies without ex- 
travagance either of hope or fear. He cries out 
from the cross, ' Father, into thy hands I commend 
my spirit, and having said this, he gave up the 
ghost.' 

I have selected these parts of our Saviour's 
character with a sparing hand, and with the single 
view of illustrating what I have called the practi- 
cableness of his example. Every one of these qual- 
ities is not only attainable by us, but of great prac- 
tical importance. His unsuspected purity of life, 
his unwearied and benevolent activity, his equa- 
nimity, coolness, and prudence, mingled with a for- 
titude which nothing could crush, and a boldness 
which disdained to equivocate with the wicked ; 
his contempt for mere applause, and superiority to 
personal convenience ; his unequalled affection 
for his disciples, and to crown all, a superintend- 



278 SERMON XVII. 

ing piety, which always led him to the most com- 
plete acquiescence in the will of God ; these are 
not the qualities of enthusiasm. They do not de- 
pend either upon the supernatural character, or 
the miraculous power of Christ ; neither are they 
peculiar to him in his character of a teacher ; but 
they are qualities, without which no man's virtue 
can be sound, no man's character perfect in prac- 
tice or in principle. They are qualities indispen- 
sable to man in society ; they are not the excel- 
lences of a recluse, who shuns the world to keep 
himself pure; they are not the virtues of supere- 
rogation, like the practices of monks and acetics, 
but they are the essential constituents of a sub- 
stantially good character, proper for the world, as 
well as inseparable from greatness and elevation 
of mind. No man can rise from the study of this 
character and say, ' It is very sublime and perfect ; 
but what is that to me ? The subject of it moves in 
a sphere which I can never reach ; he is a won- 
derful character, but useless as an example for the 
purposes of life.' On the contrary, the Christian 
must be satisfied that while he remains destitute 
of any of those principles of excellence, which 
were exemplified in the life of Christ, he is essen- 
tially defective in the christian character. 

I cannot leave this subject without, a few more 
remarks on what I have called the practicableness 
of the character of Christ and the nature of his in- 
structions. Not only did he not affect singularity 
in his mode of life, which is the sure companion 



EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST. 279 

of enthusiasm ; not only did he dress, eat, con- 
verse like other men, but he evidently suffered his 
disciples to do the same. He supposes them to fol- 
low some profession, to be fishermen, soldiers, 
taxgatherers ; to marry, to submit to magistrates, 
to carry on their usual business, and, when they 
could be spared from his service, to return again 
to their respective callings. 

Our Saviour's instructions are not like those of 
Rousseau, adapted to man in an inconceivable 
state of nature, to which this visionary enthusiast 
would recall them. They do not require men, like 
some of the ancient Stoics, to throw their wealth 
into the sea, or to inflict upon themselves unnat- 
ural austerities. But everything about Jesus, in 
precept and practice, is mild, cheering, great ; ev- 
erything is suited to the precise wants of man in 
society. 

And in his death — who would not submit to 
crucifixion, could he but die in the temper of 
Jesus, could he but commend his spirit with such 
confidence to God ! He has died for us, that he 
might teach us how to die. My friends, may his 
courage fortify us, may his devotion warm our 
hearts, and may we never think his command- 
ments grievous, or his example impracticable. 



SERMON XVIII. 



ON THE FRIENDSHIP OF OUR SAVIOUR FOR THE APOSTLE 

JOHN. 



John, XIII. 23. 

NOW THERE WAS LEANING ON JESUs' BOSOM ONE OF HIS DISCIPLES, 
WHOM JESUS LOVED. 

What an expression is this ! The disciple whom 
Jesus loved ! There was one then in the fraternity 
of apostles, whom it was not invidious to call the 
favorite of Jesus. This beloved Son of the Al- 
mighty Father, whose whole soul was continually 
filled with the magnitude of the undertaking in 
which he was engaged for the salvation of a world, 
and at whom men and angels were gazing with 
admiration ; this Jesus, who had experienced, 
through the whole of his ministry, nothing but 
scorn and ingratitude from those whom he came 
to save, who knew that he was soon to be sacri- 
ficed for this hard-hearted world, who was, at the 
point of time to which our text refers, anticipating 
the defection of his dearest friends and followers, 
and touching upon those fearful scenes in which 
his holy and benevolent life was ordained painful- 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 281 

ly terminate ; in a word, this friend of man, of 
weak, lost, wicked man, in all ages, countries, and 
conditions, has himself one friend who leaned up- 
on his bosom, and whom he best loved. What an 
affection must that have been, which was not dor- 
mant in the breast of Jesus in such an hour as 
this! 

Let us attend, first, to the history and char- 
acter of John, and 

Secondly, to the peculiar affection which ex- 
isted between him and his Master. The reflec- 
tions which follow may throw some light on the 
nature and value of that virtuous friendship which 
is not inconsistent with the spirit of the gospel. 

I. It is a remarkable instance of the modesty of 
the New Testament writers, that they say so little 
of themselves. Two of the evangelists, Matthew 
and John, were admitted to the most familiar in- 
tercourse with Jesus, and were honored with the 
gift of apostleship and its supernatural endow- 
ments ; yet we hear nothing from them of these 
distinctions. We should not know, except from 
traditional authority and from undesigned intima- 
tions, discovered in their writings, that they were 
the authors of the gospels which now bear their 
names. When they speak of themselves, it is in 
the third person ; and then they record their own 
faults and mistakes, some of which were of no 
small importance, with the most amiable ingenu- 
ousness. In their love and admiration of the Sav- 
iour, whose history they were writing, they seem 
36 



282 SERMON XVIII. 

to have forgotten themselves, and so completely 
are the historians lost in their subject, that if they 
drop a hint of themselves, it seems to be rather to 
diminish our respect for them, and to direct it all 
to their Master. 

In the case of John, it would be especially grati- 
fying to know somewhat more of the circumstan- 
ces of his life, that we might discover what there 
was in his disposition that made him a favorite 
with Jesus. His gospel and his epistl s seem to 
be the breathings of a soul full of love, and we can 
hardly believe that it was this affectionate disciple 
who would have called down fire upon the village 
of the Samaritans, or who petitioned for the 
highest honors in his Master's expected kingdom. 

It is generally supposed that John was the young- 
est of the twelve disciples. We know that he and 
his brother James were the sons of Zebedee and 
Salome, who is called by one of the Fathers a 
daughter of Joseph, by a former wife, and of course 
related to our Lord. This circumstance, if true, 
very naturally accounts for the petition of their 
mother, that her two sons might sit on his right 
and left hand in his kingdom, as well as for our 
Saviour's recommending to John, as he was ex- 
piring, the care of Mary, his own mother. The 
youth, the tenderness, the consanguinity of John, 
no doubt then, kept him near the person of our 
Saviour while he lived, and generated that pecu- 
liar attachment, which, in this favored disciple, 
would not allow him entirely to desert his Master 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 283 

in the hours of his anguish and dissolution. It is 
true that upon our Saviour's arrest, all the disci- 
ples forsook him and fled ; but John, and John 
alone, as far as we know, returned and stood near 
the cross, watching the departing spirit as it lin- 
gered on his lips, while he commended his weep- 
ing mother to this disciple, and his enemies to 
God. John saw the body laid in the sepulchre, 
he was with Peter and visited it after the resurrec- 
tion, and he was present at all the appearances of 
our Lord to his disciples. 

By this evangelist is recorded an interesting 
conversation after the resurrection, in which our 
Saviour tried the love of the fallen and repentant 
Peter, and predicted his martyrdom. But Peter 
was curious to know what should be the fate of 
John. ' Lord,' said he, ' what shall this man do ?' 
Jesus saith unto him, c If I will that he tarry till I 
come, what is that to thee ? Follow thou me. 
Then w T ent this saying abroad among the disciples, 
that this disciple should not die.' Thus was Pe- 
ter's curiosity rebuked, and the fate of John ren- 
dered an object of attention. 

From the concurrent testimony of ecclesiastical 
historians, he alone of all the apostles appears to 
have survived the destruction of Jerusalem. There 
are many stories related of him by christian wri- 
ters, to which we are not authorised to give im- 
plicit belief. There is one, however, which is so 
characteristic, and so much in the spirit of his 
epistles, that we are willing to admit it on the 



284 SERMON XVIII. 

high authority of Jerome. ' The blessed apostle 
John,' says he, 'living at Ephesus to extreme old 
age, and being with difficulty carried to church in 
the arms of the disciples, and being unable to 
make a long discourse, every time they assembled 
was wont to say nothing but this, " Little children, 
love one another." At length the disciples and 
brethren who attended, tired with hearing so often 
the same thing, said, " Sir, why do you always say 
this ?" Who then made this answer, worthy of him- 
self; "Because," says he, "it is the Lord's com- 
mand, and if that alone be done, it is sufficient."'* 
II. I proposed, secondly, to illustrate the affec- 
tion which subsisted between Jesus and his disci- 
ples, and especially that which he felt towards 
John. Turn your thoughts towards that last sup- 
per, when the Saviour of the world sat surrounded 
by his disciples. He knew that they had followed 
him hitherto, rather from interested than from af- 
fectionate motives. He knew that they expected 
from him gifts and distinctions which he would 
not and could not bestow, and were even at that 
moment mistaken as to the nature and true char- 
acter and purpose of his mission. He knew also, 
that they would forsake him as soon as he was 
completely in the power of his enemies ; that one 
of them would deny him ; that another would be- 
tray him, and that all, as soon as their favorite 
expectations were disappointed, would prove timid 
and faithless. The very disciple who was leaning 

*Lardner, chap. CXIV. Sec. VIII. 4. 3. in vol. 5, page 42. Ed. 1788. 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 285 

on his bosom, and who loved him best, he foresaw 
would yield to his fears ; and yet, with all this 
knowledge of his desertion, his love to this little 
family, not one of whom had any claims upon his 
affection, was undiminished and stronger than 
death. He pours out for them that affectionate 
prayer, which the angels who waited listening 
around him, might carry with them, weeping, to 
heaven. 

What a soul must his have been, my hearers, 
which was at the same moment filled with that 
vast object, the redemption of a world, and yet 
had a place left for twelve such disciples ! which 
could discover such tenderness for these timid and 
ignorant companions, just as he was himself en- 
tering on a scene of suffering, the solitary con- 
templation of which, in the garden of Gethsem- 
ane, threw him afterwards into such a fearful 
agony ! But in the presence of these twelve 
friends he seemed to be thinking of nothing but 
of the sufferings which they were to encounter, 
of the death which they were to suffer in his cause, 
and the distressing uncertainty and terror into 
which they would be thrown, when they saw his 
fate was inevitable. He spends, therefore, the 
last moments of his most precious life in elevat- 
ing and fortifying the humble minds of these men, 
in imparting to their weak spirits a portion of his 
own views and hopes ; nay, more, in praying for 
them that their strength might not fail, that they 
might be one with him as he was one with his 



286 SERMON XVIII. 

Father. ' Having loved his own, which were with 
him in the world, he loved them to the end.' Oh 
how enviable was the lot of the young John, to 
lean on such a breast as this, to be the friend 
of such a friend ! 

In the life of Jesus Christ we see the highest 
state of perfection in which the particular and 
universal affections can coexist in the same heart. 
We see a scope of love which embraced the whole 
interests of humanity, and yet contracted itself to 
the friendship of an individual ; a spirit which 
could weep, at the same time, for the miseries of 
a world and for the impending destruction of a sin- 
gle city ; and which yet, with all this enlargement 
of views and strength of sympathy, retained the 
most exquisite sensibility to the personal sufferings 
and infirmities of our sensitive nature. When we 
look at the example of Jesus, our perplexing dis- 
putes about selfishness and disinterestedness, about 
universal and particular affections, seem at once 
resolved ; inconsistences and difficulties vanish, 
and we see how, in a well regulated mind, all the 
affections, private and public, may be preserved 
in perfect harmony, each in its proper sphere, ex- 
ercise, and intensity, never interfering because 
properly subordinated to each other, and all hap- 
pily adjusted to the nature and circumstances of 
such a being as man. 

The only difference, except in degree, which 
appears to have existed in these affections, as they 
were found in Jesus, and as they are found in his 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 287 

disciples, is, that in the latter the most general 
affections are derived at last by degrees from the 
more private. These, in our minds, are first gen- 
erated by the circumstances in which we find our- 
selves from our birth. But in our Saviour, the or- 
der appears to have been reversed ; for in his 
mind every act of love and kindness, every limit- 
ed exercise of affection, seems to be only a sensi- 
ble expression of that general philanthropy, with 
which his mighty soul was originally and contin- 
ually filled. What in us is always imperfect, be- 
cause formed by insensible degrees, seems in him 
to have been always perfect and unlimited. Ours 
is the affection of mortals ; his was that love of 
God which passeth knowledge. It was the same 
spirit, which, although in that well known hour of 
solitude and prayer, it seemed absorbed in the dread 
of crucifixion, so that the sweat ran down like 
drops of blood, through anguish and sorrow — for 
he felt as a man — yet, when he was in the actual 
horrors of crucifixion, and probably at the period 
of the most exquisite bodily pain, caused the 
strength of his filial affection to burst through his an- 
guish, and commend his mother to his friend John, 
that mother, in whose presence he had lately said 
with apparent insensibility, * If any man will fol- 
low me, and hate not his father and mother and 
wife and children, he cannot be my disciple.' 

As we proceed, we find him cherishing the 
fondest feelings towards John, his relation, and 
towards Lazarus and his two sisters. He was in 



288 SERMON XVIII. 

the habit of taking Peter and James and John 
apart with him in those seasons when he was to 
enjoy and suffer most. Thus we discover the na- 
ture of his attachment, that it was really a partic- 
ular fondness for these individuals, especially for 
John. Yet he could say to these very favorites, 
' If ye love them who love you, what reward have 
ye ? for sinners also love those who love them.' 
If we ascend yet higher in the scale of his affec- 
tions, we discover an ardent degree of patriotism 
in his pathetic strains of lamentation over a city 
which had rejected him. c Oh Jerusalem ! Jeru- 
salem ! hadst thou but known, in this thy day, the 
things that belong unto thy peace ! How often 
would I have gathered thy children together as a 
hen gathers her chickens, under her wings ; but 
ye would not!' And yet, while he was thus la- 
menting the fate of his countrymen, his imagina- 
tion was filled with the grand forethought of the 
innumerable multitude, who should come from the 
east and from the west, from the north and from 
the south, to sit down in the kingdom of God, 
while his own people should be cast out. 

The reflections which we shall offer you on 
this subject are not many. 

1. In the first place, how astonishing is the in- 
considerateness of those unbelievers, who have at- 
tempted to raise an objection to the religion of 
Christ, from the circumstance that the gospel no- 
where expressly enjoins the virtues of patriotism 
and friendship. This objection was first suggest- 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 289 

ed, in his insidious manner, by the Earl of Shafts- 
bury ; and, what is yet more extraordinary, Soame 
Jenyns, in an eloquent defence of Christianity, 
has produced the very omission of these virtues, 
as one proof of the divine origin of the gospel mo- 
rality, merely because they are qualities so much 
esteemed among men, and therefore would not 
have been omitted in any scheme of moral pre- 
cepts of which men were the framers. 

With the virtue of patriotism we are not at 
present concerned ; but it is indeed extraordinary 
that any one, after having read the history of our 
Saviour, should represent either of these virtues as 
irreconcilable with the spirit, or unprovided for in 
the system of Christianity. Did they not remem- 
ber that touching scene at the grave of Lazarus, 
that friend whom Jesus loved ? Did they not re- 
member how he wept, so that even the Jews ex- 
claimed, ' Behold how he loved him ? ' Could they 
have remembered his tender consolation of the two 
afflicted sisters, and the domestic endearments in 
which he shared with that interesting family, after 
he had restored their brother to life, and yet could 
they say that Jesus esteemed these particular at- 
tachments false and fictitious virtues ? 

But it is said that friendship is nowhere express- 
ly recommended to us in the New Testament. 
True, it is not; and here I think is a singular 
proof of the thorough knowledge which our Sa- 
viour possessed of the human heart, and especially 
of the nature of our virtuous affections. For is it 
37 



290 SERMON XVIII. 

not easy to see, that it would have been absurd to 
enjoin particular friendship upon any man, as a 
necessary part of his christian or moral character ? 
That which is peculiar to this attachment, as it is 
distinguished from general good will, is not any- 
thing which depends upon a man's voluntary ex- 
ertions. No man can go out into the world and 
say, ' I will have a friend. 5 This, like other con- 
nexions in life, often depends upon circumstances 
beyond our control. It depends not merely upon 
a man's general benevolence of character, but 
upon a fortunate consent of affections and har- 
mony of interests, which a man may live long in 
the world and not be so happy as to meet. It re- 
quires such a concert of tastes and passions, such 
a length and frequency of intercourse, such a can- 
dor and unreservedness of mind, as we may not 
easily find or command in thousands whom yet 
we greatly esteem, and in many more with whom 
we are disposed to live on the common terms of 
peace and good neighbourhood. To have enjoin- 
ed then a social attachment like this as a subject of 
duty, or as an essential obligation on every man, 
whatever may be his circumstances, is an absurd- 
ity of which Jesus and his disciples could not 
have been guilty ; and yet this omission has been 
charged upon the friend of John and Lazarus as a 
defect in his religion. Many, I doubt not, are the 
Christians, w 7 ho have passed through this world of 
frequent changes and various characters, and yet 
have never chanced to find a real friend. Many 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 291 

more are there, who have wept over the grave of 
some one, long known and loved, but alas ! as 
they had not the power to awake him from his 
slumbers, so too they have not had the good for- 
tune afterwards to replace him. 

2. The second reflection, which I shall make, 
is, that if we would practise this virtue, if it must 
be so named, in all its purity, and enjoy our fond- 
est attachments in perfection, we must call in to 
our aid the religion of Christ. Tell us not of the 
heroic friendships of ancient story, when it was 
thought generous to sacrifice a whole nation for 
an injury to a friend, and when the duties of this 
attachment were exalted above all other obliga- 
tions, and allowed to break every other tie, and 
benevolence itself was lost in the pretended des- 
potism of private love. Tell us not of those 
modern connexions, which demand of us in honor 
to sacrifice one man's life to vindicate another's 
name from false imputations, nor of the numerous 
pitiful unions of wicked men, for purposes of in- 
terest or indulgence, conviviality or temporary 
convenience. These have as little to do with af- 
fection, as with religion. True christian regard 
is as different from all this, as lust from pure love, 
or bodily strength from real courage. The only 
perfect union of minds will be that which is ani- 
mated, corrected, and matured by the evangelical 
spirit of Christianity. Why ? Because their faith 
and hopes are not only one through their present 
destiny, but because man has interests and hopes 



292 SERMON XVIII. 

in eternity, dearer and greater than any temporal 
well-being, and that union of minds into which 
eternity enters not, and makes no part of their 
common hopes, must be essentially defective ; be- 
cause this idea, rendering the affection which it 
influences more sublime and more interesting, 
must make it superior to any temporary union of 
views and purposes, how many years soever may 
have cemented it. You anticipate the company 
of your friend tomorrow ; the Christian, not to- 
morrow only, but forever. He does not lose sight 
of him through the long range of a future exist- 
ance. 

Further ; the essential temper of Christianity is 
self-distrust ; and it is the very charm of friend- 
ship to love to repose on another's knowledge and 
affection. The greatest foe of grace is pride ; 
and pride also cannot coexist with generous, un- 
disguised, unqualified affection. Again; it is the 
object of the gospel to wear off the dissocial 
points of our character, to unite our conflicting 
interests and hostile passions, and to endue us 
with that temper which is not easily provoked 
and which thinketh no evil. It is also the ten- 
dency of our religion to exhaust those sources of 
jealousy and distrust, which so often embitter our 
tenderest and dearest connexions. A Christian, 
knowing his own infirmities, will not expect too 
much, even from him he loves best. He has none 
of that pride which takes offence at fancied neg- 
lects, and he sees the folly and the sin of requir- 



CHRIST'S FRIENDSHIP FOR JOHN. 293 

ing from another such an illiberal attachment to 
himself, as shall confine all his sacrifices to him, 
and exclude the rest of the world from his 
attention. It therefore appears to me that to 
make friendship perfect, Christianity was necessa- 
ry ; because this alone teaches us the sinfulness 
of wishing for such a monopoly of affection, as is 
demanded by some narrow minds, and is so con- 
trary to the genius of the gospel. 

Why do we see so many ruptures of amity in 
the circle of our acquaintance ? Is it not in many 
cases from a selfish and excessive jealousy of af- 
fection, inconsistent with the true sentiment of 
benevolence ? Still further ; the true Christian is 
the best master of his passions, and thus he avoids 
a perpetual danger, on which the most ardent 
minds are apt to fall asunder, and their love to 
change to aversion. It is a painful thought to fall 
out by the way, when we have the long path of 
eternity to travel together. 

In fine, where the affection between two minds 
is not influenced by a sense of a present and all 
gracious Father in Heaven ; where the tomb, when 
it has closed upon one of them, is thought to have 
separated them forever ; where they have no com- 
munion of mind upon the most interesting of hu- 
man contemplations, God, Jesus, and the life to 
come ; where the all-sanctifying grace of the gos- 
pel does not mould their desires, correct and unite 
their dispositions in humility and christian love, 
there may be fondness, there may be satisfaction, 



294 SERMON XVIII. 

there may be partiality, but there is not friendship, 
such as it existed between Jesus and John ; such 
in fact as that for which Jesus prayed, when he 
said, ' Holy Father, keep through thine own name 
those whom thou hast given me, that they may 
be one, as we are one.' 

My christian friends, if you have found one, 
who leans on your breast, and you are not afraid 
that he should listen to the secrets that disturb 
it ; if wisdom and virtue have directed you to him ; 
if ardent love of truth, generous accommodation 
to each other, fear of God, attachment to his gos- 
pel, and hope of everlasting life have bound you 
together, cherish such a union of minds. The 
grace of Jesus Christ will temper every desire of 
your hearts, and mellow your affections by the 
gentle influences of his gospel. Your interests 
will more closely intertwine as you draw nearer to 
the grave, and become more detached from the 
surrounding distractions of the world, and the 
tomb, when it closes upon you, shall not separate 
you, for as God is true, they that sleep in Jesus 
he will bring with him. Jesus, who once raised a 
friend from the tomb, will not let it close forever 
on those who love him, and who love like him. 



SERMON XIX 



ON SELF-EXAMINATION. 

A DISCOURSE PREACHED ON THE LAST DAY OP THE YEAR. 

Luke, XVI. 2. 

GIVE ATf ACCOUNT OF THY STEWARDSHIP. 

Once more a day has arrived which reminds us 
of the astonishing flight of our time. And of 
what time ? Of that brief space in which is 
crowded the whole scene of our mortal probation ; 
that momentary space in which is determined the 
everlasting destiny of man. I tremble when I think 
that we are now taking an eternal leave of one 
more of those few years that are allotted to the 
life of man. Man fleeth as a shadow, and contin- 
ueth not. Let us employ the fleeting moments of 
this day in reflecting upon the poverty of human 
existence, before it escapes and shuts up forever 
the closing year. 

Why is it that the points and bounds of our pas- 
sing time, when they present themselves, affect us 
so unpleasantly, and spread such a gloom over our 
meditations ? Is it that we were not aware of the 



296 SERMON XIX. 

approach of this last day of another year ? No, 
surely ; for every departing week, every setting 
sun has given us an admonition of this day, and 
has prepared us for its arrival. Is it because this 
day informs us how old we are, and that we are 
so much nearer to the close of life ? No, surely ; 
for every other day has told us the same truth, and 
besides this, who is there but imagines that he has 
many years to live ? No, my friends ; it is because 
this day awakens our sleeping recollection and 
brings up the story of our lives. It is because 
this day interrogates us with more than common 
solemnity, What account can you give of the year 
that is past ? It summons us to look into our 
characters, our families ; to examine the posture of 
our affairs with regard to the great objects of our 
existence on earth, and something whispers that 
all is not right, and that if we can shut our eyes 
without apprehension, it is no longer without peril. 
This, this it is, which gives this day its terrors. 
The sun rises as surely, the face of nature is the 
same, the provision for our life is as sure and regu- 
lar as ever ; but yet a voice seems to issue from 
the closing portals of the year, ' Give an account 
of thy stewardship,' and a secret alarm steals over 
the mind at the consequences of our delay. 

Since, then, we have reached, by God's blessing, 
so favorable a spot for reflection, let us devote this 
opportunity to severe self-examination. To assist 
you in this duty, which, though painful, must not 
therefore be avoided, allow me to suggest to you 



SELF-EXAMINATION. 297 

some subjects of inquiry. In doing this, I would 
not assume the office of an inquisitor, nor even 
that of a monitor ; but only give some refreshment 
to your memories, and some direction to your 
meditations. 

In this review of our character and situation we 
must, if we would do it usefully and effectually, 
limit ourselves to some definite periods of time, 
and portions of our conduct. There is nothing 
more proper than to confine it to the year that is 
past, and to consider the state of our minds and 
hearts, our domestic, our social, and our religious 
condition. 

1. In the first place, when we examine the im- 
provement we have made, at any time, in mind 
and disposition, there presents itself to our view 
a meagre account of our mental treasures, and an 
humbling sense of our defects of temper. Do we 
find that we have supplied during the last year the 
chasms and vacuities of our knowledge, or are we 
yet as ignorant as ever of many things most impor- 
tant to acquire ? Have we set apart a portion of 
our leisure to the cultivation of our understand- 
ings ? Have the difficulties, for instance, which 
have hitherto obstructed our faith, or kept alive 
our prejudices against Christianity, been honestly 
examined and fairly removed, or do we remain as 
ignorant of God and of his gospel, as at any former 
period ? Though many incidents we meet with, 
arouse a temporary interest in religion, have we 
taken pains to preserve this interest and to follow 
38 



298 SERMON XIX. 

the light which has sometimes darted across our 
path, or have we sunk back again into the darkness 
which usually envelopes our meditations ? If, on the 
contrary, while we have increased in years, the 
memory and the sentiment of the most important 
truths in religion have been fading away, can we 
be satisfied with such a state of mind, even though 
on other subjects we may have learnt much, and 
have added to our experience in politics, litera- 
ture, and the conduct of life ? The subjects relat- 
ing to our religion and to our duties, are vast and 
impressive, and they cannot be learnt at a glance. 
Let us not go through another year in all the pre- 
sumptuousness of ignorance ; upon subjects, too, 
which in a single hour may burst upon our unpre- 
pared minds with all the terrible certainty of anoth- 
er life. 

Again ; can we discover during the last year 
any melioration of our tempers, and any improve- 
ment of our habits? We have formerly suffered 
much sordid attachment to wealth. Are we disen- 
gaged from this slavery ? We have sometimes felt 
the stings of envy, and the troubles of vanity, peev- 
ishness, and discontent. Are we yet free from 
these miserable tormentors, or are we at this mo- 
ment suffering as much as ever from envy, pride, 
disappointment, and unsatisfied desires ? Are the 
resentments which we once felt, at last extinguish- 
ed ; and has the coldness which we have indulg- 
ed towards some men, given place to more cordial 
sentiments ? The thought of death has perhaps 



SELF-EXAMINATION. 299 

occurred to us often as we have grown older. Do 
we look forward to it with more tranquillity, or 
are we still putting far away the evil day, afraid to 
think of it, and trembling lest it should arrest us 
in the midst of a life of acknowledged sinfulness ? 
God has continued us another year. But have we 
broken off those doubtful habits which our con- 
sciences did not approve, or have we this year 
begun those habits of personal religion, which we 
have before neglected, or renewed and invigorat- 
ed those which have been omitted ? If we have 
not kept up our private devotions, if, by being 
more immersed in occupation, we have lost sight 
of God, now is the time to call up these solemn 
subjects, to repair these alarming defects, and 
with truly penitent hearts to acknowledge the af- 
flicting truth, that we have fallen off from the only 
support of our unworthy lives, and to return to 
him with humiliation and prayer. 

2. In the second place, let us examine our do- 
mestic character, and see how we have fulfilled, 
during the last year, this social relation. Far be 
it from me to indulge an idle curiosity ; I would 
only lead you to look towards that quarter, where 
you will be likely to make the most important dis- 
coveries. Are you satisfied then, with your habits 
of domestic life ? Is a large portion of your leis- 
ure faithfully devoted to those parental obliga- 
tions, for which you must account with God, the 
great parent, and with the great family of which 
you are a part ? You have sometimes, I doubt 



300 SERMON XIX. 

not, resolved with true affection to devote your- 
selves in earnest to the religious cultivation of the 
minds of your children. Has this been regularly 
and seriously undertaken, or have your attentions 
to them been slight and unproductive of good, 
because you were soon weary of the task, and 
finally relinquished, because it seemed burthen- 
some and vexatious ? Another year they have 
lived under your roof; another year has exposed 
them to new temptations. Have you done anything 
for them for which they will thank you forever ? 
Is your family a scene of real quiet, of content- 
ment, of intellectual pleasure, of habitual religion? 
or are your occupations at home frivolous, your 
pleasures unsparingly introduced, your expenses 
lavished without rule, your time dissipated with- 
out economy, and your home the theatre of fool- 
ish and unprofitable occupations, all introduced to 
banish thought and solitude, and make you forget 
that you are at home ? Do you know the habits 
your children are forming, the examples they see, 
the companions they cherish, and the employ- 
ments in which they engage when they are out of 
your sight ? Have you this year introduced any 
improvements in your domestic arrangements by 
which you have supplied former defects and cor- 
rected former errors ? Is God, the God of your 
fathers, the God of your children, on whom you 
depend every hour for your own life, and the lives 
of those who are dearest to you in the world, is 
he yet invoked within your walls ? 



SELF-EXAMINATION. 30 1 

3. In the third place, let us examine our social 
character. Within the last year the wealth of 
some of you has perhaps increased, and your 
means of doing good have of course been extend- 
ed. Has your bounty also been enlarged ? In- 
stead of applying this year your superfluous wealth 
to the purposes of your avarice or your pleasure, 
have you devoted it more sacredly than before to 
higher and more generous purposes ? Can you, 
amid your reflections, repose sweetly on the in- 
stances of real good which you have been the 
means of producing, or does the last year present 
the miserable blank of a selfish and wordly life ? 

When we consider, too, how various and fre- 
quent, within a single year, are the means of doing 
good, our memory must reproach us with some 
omissions which nothing but necessity could ex- 
cuse. Is no one now suffering from our neglect ? 
Has no one been wounded by our ill treatment, 
distressed by our carelessness, or seduced by our 
example ? Have we made honest and full repara- 
tion for the wrongs which we have either wilfully 
or inadvertently committed ? Have we been re- 
conciled to those with whom we have quarrelled, 
and are we now at peace with our neighbours and 
with our own hearts ? 

Are you satisfied with the last year's discharge 
of your various social duties, as a citizen, a friend, 
a professional man, a supporter of the good insti- 
tutions of society ? Have you withheld no one's 
dues, sacrificed no man's good name, equivocated 



302 SERMON XIX. 

in no one's cause, imposed on no one's credulity, 
stood in the way of no one's happiness ? Have 
you never shrunk from your duty, because it was 
difficult or dangerous, and drawn back when you 
might save another from ruin, lest you should 
expose yourself to censure or to trouble ? 

Lastly ; How stands your religious character ? 
Are you more devotional and heavenly-minded in 
your dispositions, more truly religious in your 
habits ? When you have attended on the public 
worship of God, has it been with a more solemn 
sense of the presence of the great God whom we 
here approach, or do you still regard it as a practice 
due only to your sense of decorum, and required 
by the habits of the community, a practice which 
you omit when you can ? The sense of the obli- 
gation of public worship is entirely distinct from 
the pleasure, which you may happen to receive 
from a preacher ; and you are not to measure 
your true character as worshippers of God, by 
the curiosity or any other selfish motive, which 
may bring you here. Have you taken care to cor- 
rect any impropriety in your attendance on these 
duties of prayer and praise to God ? For the real 
character of men's minds will discover itself in 
many neglects and irregularities, in which a truly 
serious man will never allow himself, although the 
world may notwithstanding give him the praise of 
reputable deportment. 

One year more is just going, and with it how 
many golden opportunities are taking their flight. 



SELF-EXAMINATION 303 

and you call after them in vain ! Are you satisfied 
with the religious progress you have made ? Of 
your prayers how many have fallen ineffectual 
from your lips, and how many, from your wander- 
ing habit of mind, have never reached the throne 
of God ? Can you take pleasure in the progress 
of the divine life in your souls, in the new views 
that open upon you, in the new hopes that cheer 
you, in the peace of your hearts in communion 
with God ? You have perhaps had some afflic- 
tions ; how have'you improved them ? some disap- 
pointments ; how have you met them ? some new 
intimations of your own departure from the world ; 
how have they operated upon your thoughts ? 

Every man must appropriate these inquiries to 
his own peculiar circumstances. They are hints 
only, too general to make a deep impression, with- 
out our personal attention. Do you call it imperti- 
nence in the preacher ? The examination must 
at some time be made, and what opportunity is 
more favorable than the present ? It will be in- 
conceivably dangerous for us to live on from year 
to year always deferring this scrutiny. Our per- 
plexity will every day increase, our debts will ac- 
cumulate, and yet the voice, * Give an account of 
thy stewardship,' will be heard by every man. And 
will there be another opportunity ? Thou, Lord, 
only knowest! thou, before whom all nations 
shall be gathered, and the books must be opened, 
where every man must read at the same moment 
his past life and his future destination ; at a mo- 



304 SERMON XIX. 

ment also, when all our prayers, and all our re- 
morse will not change the solemn account. 

The tremendous sum of our unworthiness is 
not to be just glanced at and forgotten. It can- 
not, and as God lives, it will not be forgotten, 
though we should continue to practise, to the end 
of a long life, this same formality. The sins of 
this year are added to the last, as those of the 
last were to those of the preceding. What then 
is the state of our religious condition ? You, 
who have lived twenty, thirty, forty years, and 
more in this world of God's, who have been sup- 
ported by him every moment, who have nothing 
which you have not received from him, nothing 
for which you must not account before his presence 
hereafter, think, I beseech you, of the folly and 
danger of longer neglecting to acknowledge him, 
to pray to him, to fear him, to serve him with all 
the powers which he has given you. If you have 
never seriously thought of this, think of it now. 
The ground on which you stand is treacherous ; 
it may in an instant yield and plunge you into an 
• abyss of irrecoverable sorrow. Choose you this 
day whom you will serve, and presume not that 
God's mercy will draw out to an indefinite length, 
your quivering thread of life. You that have 
thought the wonderful gift of his Son Jesus, un- 
worthy of your attention, let not the new year 
begin without finding you approaching this merci- 
ful Saviour. { And when he was a great way off 
his father saw him, and had compassion on him.' 



SELF-EXAMINATION. 305 

Those of you, who, with a sincere faith in the 
gospel of Jesus, and with a general conviction of 
your duty to live to his honor, have discovered 
this year great defects in your services, and who 
feel oppressed with a sense of the little progress 
you have made, come, and let us now determine 
with full purpose of heart, on what ! — Ah ! the vast 
field of duty is so immense ! and yet if God be for 
us who can defeat us ? Let us resolve then upon a 
more faithful cultivation of our minds, more seri- 
ous reading and less amusement, more thought 
and less vanity, more serious inquiry after truth 
and less vain speculation. Let us sacredly, unre- 
servedly, and in opposition to all the sneers of the 
profligate part of the world, resolve before God to 
devote this holy time to the instruction of our fam- 
ilies, and of ourselves too, if we have not yet be- 
gun it. Let no plea of business or of pleasure 
prevent this employment of our Sundays' leisure. 
Mark out for yourselves, and for your children, a 
course of religious instruction, and in the fear and 
love of God, commence the great duty of prayer, 
and persevere in it to the end. 

Determine that you will this year look around 
you to discover where you may retrench your un- 
profitable expenses upon mere vanities and pleas- 
ures. Let not the means of doing good accumu- 
late upon you, only to increase the weight of your 
condemnation, as if you were enriched only 3 ' to 
swell an enormous treasure, or to fill a greater 
space in the eyes of an envious world. Be con- 
39 



306 SERMON XIX. 

tinually on your guard against that hardness of 
heart, which constant attention to the secular em- 
ployments of life is sure to produce. Look out 
for objects of bounty and for channels of benefi- 
cence. Never imagine that you have done your 
duty while there is a single want of body or mind 
to which you can have access, unrelieved. Re- 
solve to relinquish at once any habits in your do- 
mestic or public life, of which your conscience 
gives you a doubt of the innocence. Break off 
with all the prudence in your power any ensnar- 
ing connexions, any unworthy and dangerous 
friendships. Let not a false shame prevent you 
for a single day, from giving up any modes of life, 
which, however popular or reputable, are inconsis- 
tent with the life of a serious Christian. Decid- 
edly and instantly oppose any private practices 
which are not perfectly reconcilable with the 
laws of God, and with domestic peace and purity ; 
and take your firm stand against the introduction 
of any public amusements by which the order and 
good habits of society may be unhappily affected. 

Let not the old excuses be again brought for- 
ward to justify you in the neglect of institutions 
which you acknowledge to be useful, and which 
you believe to be the command of God. Reform 
whatever there is to be reformed in your atten- 
dance on public worship, and in your observance 
of the exercises of religion. 

Let us begin the year with an humble and pen- 
itent acknowledgment of our sins, defects, and 



SELF-EXAMINATION. 307 

degeneracies, and pray to God for pardon. Let 
us set out, with confidence in his aid, upon a new 
career of more effective obedience. We cannot, 
it is true, resolve upon everything at once, our 
deficiencies and sins are too numerous to be re- 
formed by one act of solemn determination ; but 
we can all fix upon some portion of character and 
conduct, and thither bend our resolution ; and at 
least we can all resolve to relinquish any evil hab- 
it which we are conscious of indulging. Though 
it is dangerous to promise much that we will do, 
we can all determine before God and our hearts, 
what we will abandon. 

But, my friends, what have I been recommend- 
ing ! Resolutions for another year, for the rest of 
life, when it may be, that some of us shall not 
see another day ; many of us, not another year ! 
I wonder at the temerity, the confidence of man ! 
Spare us, good Lord ! Cut us not off in the midst 
of our days. Give us another year that we may 
repent and serve thee better. 



SERMON XX 



SOURCES OF THE COMMON MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. 
Psalms, L. 21. 

THOU THOUGHTEST THAT I WAS ALTOGETHER SUCH AN ONE AS 
THYSELF. 

Religion, as far as it is in any way distinct from 
morals, has reference to God. If there were no 
God at the head of the universe, there could be 
no religion, because it is implied in every defini- 
tion which can be given of a religious man, that 
his conduct is governed by his sense of God's ap- 
probation. Of course, as far as the characters of 
men differ who believe in the existence of such a 
supreme being, the different ideas which they en- 
tertain of this being must lie at the root of the di- 
versities in their characters. Hence, if you follow 
men up to their most secret persuasions, you will 
find that their notions of God's character are vari- 
ously modified. If we all conceived of it exactly 
alike, it would be impossible that such varieties 
should exist in our speculations and practice. It 
becomes, therefore, to every man, a subject of im- 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. 309 

portant inquiry, whether he has not in some man- 
ner figured to his own mind a being like himself, 
and placed him at the head of the universe, instead 
of the unchangeable and perfect Jehovah. 

It is true that the only ideas which we can form 
of the moral perfections of God, must be original- 
ly derived from our conceptions of these qualities 
as we find them in human nature ; that is, in our- 
selves and others. Hence it follows that every 
man's notions on this subject, will be more or less 
accurate, according to the purity and truth of his 
moral ideas and sentiments. For it is only by ex- 
alting to the highest degree of excellence those 
qualities which we love or approve in men, that 
we can conceive of God at all, as a good and moral 
governor. Hence he that has no just conceptions 
of the true nature of moral excellence, must form 
unworthy conceptions of God ; and hence, too, it 
naturally follows, that in proportion to the purity 
of our own minds will be the justness of our 
thoughts of our Maker. In this view of the sub- 
ject it may also be said, that every man makes a 
God for himself, insensibly degrading or dignifying 
the object of his adoration, according to the cast 
of his own wishes or character. This is a conside- 
ration fraught with the most solemn consequences. 

In conformity with these remarks, we find, in 
the history of the world, the gods of those nations 
who have had no revelation, fashioned according 
to the characters of the times and people. In the 
rude and warlike ages of the world, their gods were 



310 SERMON XX. 

as quarrelsome as themselves. They were indeed 
little more than a race of stronger men, and the 
moral ideas of mankind were so few and so imper- 
fect, that strength was the only quality thoroughly 
understood and really reverenced, even in Divinity. 
The barbarous nations of the north, ascribed to their 
supreme divinity the most cruel and blood-thirsty 
propensities ; he was appeased with the scent of 
human gore, and gratified with the sacrifice of the 
most innocent victims. As society became more 
luxurious and effeminate, the gods were also sen- 
sualized and enervated, till at last, even in the 
times of refinement and philosophy, it was thought 
the greatest perfection and felicity of the Godhead 
to have no concern with the affairs of this world, 
but to pass a life of the most senseless inactivity. 
This was the philosophy of Epicurus. 

For these strange misapprehensions of the Deity, 
there is some excuse in the want of a written rev- 
elation, which should fully declare the character of 
God. The proofs of it which are found in the 
works of nature, are not easily apprehended by an 
uncultivated mind. When God was seen only in 
the clouds and heard in the wind, the clouds often 
obscured his majesty, and the wind brought only 
indistinct murmurs of a mighty power. To us 
there is no such apology ; and if we think unwor- 
thily of God, it argues some perversion of the 
mind, in which we cannot be blameless. That 
eye must be diseased which cannot now see the 
sun of righteousness travelling in his strength and 
unclouded in his lustre. 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. SH 

It shall be my object in this discourse to inquire 
into the sources of the most common misappre- 
hensions of God, and to lead you to examine your 
own notions on this subject. 

I. The first source of misapprehension, is found, 
where we should least of all expect it, in scripture 
itself. There are many who form their ideas of 
their Maker from detached passages of the bible, 
without consulting the general tenor of the volume. 
They seize upon particular texts, and dwell on 
them with a kind of superstitious partiality, as if 
they were glad to find the picture of a being such 
as they had feared or fancied. From the texts 
which proclaim the mercy of God and the extent 
of the redemption by Jesus, they figure to them- 
selves a God who is all fondness or compassion ; 
who is too gentle to punish, too kind to look with 
displacency on any of his creatures, how corrupt 
and wicked soever they may be. Thus they 
frame, from a few unconnected texts, a system 
in which God is introduced only to make men 
happy whether they are fit for it or not, and the 
awful and pure Majesty of Heaven is changed into 
a doating and foolish parent. 

Others seem to search the scriptures only to 
find proofs of arbitrary power and irresistible de- 
termination in the Deity. To him they ascribe 
unconditional decrees, and to themselves an in- 
vincible fatality of action, which leave them with- 
out blame or power or accountability. Destitute 
of that spirit of devotion which a just sense of our 



312 SERMON XX. 

dependence is calculated to preserve, their no- 
tions of God's government are adapted only to 
excuse themselves in sin, or make them presump- 
tuous in religion. Because God controls their 
fate, they think that they have nothing to do with 
it ; and though in the business of the world they 
are as sensible as other men that their condition 
must depend upon their exertions, in the affairs of 
religion they are willing to believe that everything 
is fixed, everything immutable, bound down in the 
chains of an unrelenting fate, which leaves them 
without the means to conquer or to fly. ' I am 
only what God has made me, I must be what he 
has determined.' But why do they never recollect, 
that it is his determination that we should be mor- 
al beings, placed here for probation, whose con- 
dition must depend always upon character ? It is 
only from a strange partiality to individual texts 
that we see some men reposing in the deceitful 
dream of an Elysium of universal and uncondi- 
tional salvation, and others worshipping a God, 
who looks with complacency upon the eternal and 
unalterable torments of one half of a race of hu- 
man creatures, whom he has unconditionally rep- 
robated from the beginning of time. 

II. Another source of misapprehension is to be 
found in the partial views which we take of God's 
providence. There are men, who, from the very 
regularity with which the universe proceeds, con- 
clude against the government of a supreme con- 
troller. They have seen no miraculous interpo- 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. £13 

sitions, they have witnessed no disturbance of the 
common course of causes and effects. Hence 
they conclude that God has never interfered in the 
quietude of nature, that the story of miracles is a 
fabrication, and the proofs of revelation the dream 
of enthusiasts. They see, too, in the world, the 
judgments of God against the wicked unaccount- 
ably delayed, and the happiness of the good 
strangely interrupted ; crimes triumphing in un- 
punished presumption, and humility and integrity 
groaning under the persecution of the impious. 
All things, in their estimation, come alike to all ; 
and if they admit the necessity of a prime mover, 
they admit an agent who is of little more conse- 
quence in the universe than the spring in the 
movements of a watch, which serves to keep the 
parts in motion, but which knows not how irregu- 
larly the hands may point, or how widely the ac- 
tion of the parts may be disarranged. They fond- 
ly imagine that what to them appears confusion 
would appear so to God, if he observed it, and there- 
fore they would place him out of sight of the 
scenes and changes of this state of things. 

There is another class of men, who judge of the 
character of God from particular events which 
happen to themselves or others. Where their 
thoughts are full of some darling projects, and 
their zeal influenced by some favorite set of opin- 
ions, they exalt themselves into the ministers of 
God's especial designs, and every unexpected oc- 
currence which favors their plans they fondly call 
40 



314 SERMON XX. 

a special interposition of his providence. They 
think they see the heavens opened and the angels 
of God ascending and descending to minister to 
their purposes. They make God a party to their 
passions, and think he is altogether such an one as 
themselves. They construe their success into a 
proof of God's approbation, and pronounce those 
atheists, who will not discern the steps of God's 
providence in that little footpath, which their vain 
imaginations have marked out for him. In short, 
they would place the Divinity within the little cir- 
cle of their own society, where he frowns or smiles 
according to their wishes. Next to the mischief 
of gross impiety, is the mischief of favoritism; or 
rather of superstitious pretensions to the interpo- 
sitions of God's providence. 

There are others who judge of God from some 
particular misfortune which has happened to 
themselves. Perhaps he has not granted answers 
to their importunate prayers, and then they think 
him inexorable, or he has blasted their hopes, and 
brought them down from the proud eminence of 
their prosperous circumstances, to dwell in the 
low, and damp vale of misery. There they see 
the Divinity through mists ; God is regarded with 
fear, as the sun, in the language of Milton, 

' Looks through the horizontal misty air, 
And sheds disastrous twilight' 

Then they venture to arraign his goodness, 
or imbibe unworthy conceptions of his benev- 
olence. They say God has no mercy laid up 
for them, and they fall into the most distressing 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. g 1 5 

melancholy, or the most dreadful impiety and 
unconcern. There are also men, who, from a 
long course of remarkable successes, or from 
some extraordinary preservations, seem to think 
that God has given them a pledge of perpet- 
ual security. They believe in what they call their 
fortune ; as if their Maker had left them to some 
tutelary genius, or given them a commission of un- 
interrupted good fortune. In the enlarged mind of 
a Christian all these are unworthy conceptions of 
the Deity. He dares not judge of the character 
of God from single events, or from any one confin- 
ed sphere of his operations. He knows these are 
but parts of his ways ; and that a very little por- 
tion is heard by man of Him, in whose sight a 
thousand years are but as yesterday when it is 
past, or as a watch in the night. 

III. A third source of our misapprehension of 
God is to be found in our own peculiar tempera- 
ment. The native cast of every man's mind in 
some degree tinges all his -moral qualities, and the 
same virtues and vices are not precisely alike in 
any human beings. Hence, according to our pre- 
dominant tempers, will our ideas of God be modi- 
fied, and we shall think unworthily of the Divinity, 
in the same proportion that we mingle in our con- 
ceptions of him, the peculiarities of our own affec- 
tions, passions, and imperfections. For even the 
best of men must take their notions of the perfec- 
tion of any moral quality from that form in which it 
exists, however imperfectly, in their own minds, 



316 SERMON XX. 

and with this individual hue will they transfer it 
to the character of God. Thus the Ethiopians, 
it is said, when they would paint their gods in 
the highest style of beauty, colored them black, 
simply because it was their own native complexion. 
This part of my subject, is, I know, difficult 
and abstruse. It is almost impossible to define 
those shades of difference which exist in every 
man's mind, and affect his notions of justice, 
mercy, goodness, and wisdom. But as far as these 
varieties exist, are our best notions of God affect- 
ed ; and perhaps we are not sufficiently on our 
guard that we do not worship an idol of our im- 
aginations, when we profess to worship the all-per- 
fect and unchangeable Divinity. Thus there are 
some men whose temperament is melancholy and 
whose religion comes to them enveloped in a man- 
tle of funereal gloom. They think that God al- 
ways looks upon the world as they do, on the 
darkest side ; and that he can find nothing on 
earth to contemplate with complacency. They 
form to themselves a being, who looks with abhor- 
rence upon those pleasures, which they see with 
disgust or pity, and thus, with the sincerest inten- 
tion of honoring Jehovah, place him always in a 
light in which they only, can contemplate him with 
advantage. The mild cheerfulness of the nature of 
others, sometimes leads them to dress the Divinity 
in smiles. If they are sensible themselves of the 
purity of God's character, yet they are willing to 
have in others, the belief that he is only love. 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. 31 7 

They rejoice in the happiness of God's creation, 
but they forget that all happiness is not virtue, and 
that God cannot love those who love not him, nor 
make any blessed in the enjoyment of himself 
against their will and ruling passion. They forget 
that it is hazardous to attribute to God the weak- 
ness of their own good nature. They cannot bear 
to see others unhappy, God cannot endure to see 
them unworthy of happiness. The disposition of 
the famous Genevan reformer, that truly great man, 
was remarkably stern and inflexible. He seemed 
to believe that God pursued his own glory in the 
same way and by the same means in which his 
zeal and haughtiness prompted him to pursue it. 
Hence the severity of his system, the unrelenting 
attributes with which he loves to surround his God, 
and the pleasure with which he continually dwells 
on the sovereignty of God, an attribute which 
seems to be in his mind little else than the un- 
qualified power of doing as he pleases. ' Thou 
thoughtest I was altogether such a one as thyself,' 
might here be justly objected ; and it has been 
objected, I believe, with considerable effect. 

There are other men, of a natural timidity of 
temper, who never consider God as pleased with a 
rational and manly piety, but who seem rather to 
deprecate his displeasure by trifling and super- 
stitious performances, such as could be demanded 
only by a weak and capricious deity. Their ser- 
vices seem to be offered by way of atonement. 
They put up their prayers with punctuality, rather 



318 SERMON XX. 

lest God should be offended, than in the spirit of 
true devotion, and though strictly conscientious in 
their whole character, they do not seem to have at- 
tained to that state of perfect love which casteth 
out fear. They have not that spirit of adoption by 
which we may cry, Abba ! Father ! 

IV. A fourth source of our unworthy concep- 
tions of the Deity is to be found in our wicked lusts 
and corrupt habits. No man, who is the slave of 
any favorite sin, can remain easy in the apprehen- 
sion that God regards him with the same disap- 
probation that he regards himself. Hence he must 
either accommodate his notions of God to his own 
standard, or else he must live in perpetual fear 
and dissatisfaction. It is not doubtful which of 
these alternatives he will choose. This is the 
secret of all the atheism in the world. God must 
be dispossessed of his authority and the world 
given up to the sport of human crimes, that these 
men may live securely. Hence, if there are any 
notions of Deity which seem to favor their irreli- 
gion, they easily £ nd arguments in their support, 
and their understanding is sophisticated by their 
lusts. They greedily embrace the opinion that 
God, so pure, so infinite, so almighty as he must 
be, thinks it unworthy of his majesty to attend to 
the minutiae of human conduct. The opinion of 
a moral government of the world they reject as 
the fiction of priests. God surely will not disturb 
the dead silence of the grave to awaken mortals 
like them to retribution ! God surely cannot feel 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. 31 9 

such an interest in the concerns of this little planet, 
this atom of creation, as to think it necessary to 
vindicate the honors of his holiness by making 
such an insignificant creature as I am, miserable 
for my sins ! Presumptuous man ! It is no greater 
condescension in the Lord of innumerable worlds 
to stoop to observe your most secret sins, than it 
is for him to receive the homage of the seraph 
that stands on the highest step of his throne. 
The darkest recesses of your lusts are to him as 
clearly visible as the lightest mansion in heaven. 
Think, O thou careless man ! that if a single sin 
you have committed were out of his cognisance, 
the perfection of his government would be as 
really impaired, as if the crimes of a conqueror 
were unregarded or a world crushed, and he per- 
ceived it not. The disorder of the universe would 
be as great, if you could go unpunished, as if a 
Nero or Caligula had escaped his retribution ; as 
if the whole world of nature were unbalanced, 
and systems rushed together in chaos. And on 
the other hand, the equity of his government would 
be as much impaired, if the sigh of a single saint 
were lost to his ear, his omniscience would be as 
much limited if a sinner repented and God knew 
it not, as if a new sun were to break out and he 
observed not its brightness. It is only in the hope 
of annihilation that God can be safely disregard- 
ed. And even to that vacant gulf a ray of divine 
power darts in, and it is no longer a void. 



320 SERMON XX. 

I close this subject, then, by offering you the 
following considerations. Remember, that in pro- 
portion to the purity of your own hearts will be 
the justness of your thoughts of God. The more 
like God you become, the more — I would say it 
with reverence — will you enter into his character. 
And without this conformity of heart and conduct 
to his will, your knowledge of the Divinity will be 
nothing but a cold and barren speculation. To 
what purpose is it that you can enter into all the 
proofs of his eternity, omnipotence, omniscience, 
and infinity, or arrange a demonstration of God's 
attributes with the utmost perspicuity ; to what 
purpose talk of him in language worthy of his 
greatness, and become eloquent in the praises of 
Jehovah, if you remain untouched with the moral 
excellence of his character, if God is not the object 
of your love, if there exists in your heart a secret 
disgust at his government, and an aversion to 
his purity ? The mind of such a man is like a 
cold and empty chamber hung round with the 
maps and figures of the different parts of the 
earth, which he has seen and known only in these 
delineations ; regions of which he knows no- 
thing by personal knowledge, where he has no 
friends, no attachments, no hopes, no ties of in- 
terest. If God is not our God, it is of little pur- 
pose that we believe that such a being exists. But, 
my friends, if your hearts are frequently in com- 
munion with him, you will have an eternal friend 
in this awful being. If you can enjoy everything 



MISAPPREHENSIONS OF GOD. 321 

which you meet as his gift, every creature in exis- 
tence will furnish you with new proofs of his 
goodness. God will enter into all your thoughts. 
No event, however unexpected, will weaken your 
trust in him. What you cannot now interpret, you 
will believe contains a kind meaning ; what you 
fear you will fear as a mark of his displeasure, and 
in no other view ; what you suffer, you will suffer 
as the instrument of his goodness. The changes 
in the world, and much less the dark and the light 
aspects of your affairs, will not for a moment give 
you any misapprehensions of your Maker. The 
longer you live the more will you acknowledge the 
equity of his dispensations, and the more humbly 
will you rely upon his providence. 

If, then, you would correct your false notions of 
God you must be more intimate with him. Live 
lives of habitual devotion, and your breast will be 
the temple of the Divinity. He that dwelleth in 
love dwelleth in God and God in him. Without 
this spirit of piety, it seems to me that all our dis- 
courses, all our descriptions of Jehovah, and in- 
deed everything relating to religion, must appear 
to you like the conversation of foreigners, in a 
language, which, however familiarized to your ear, 
you do not understand. Without the aid of a de- 
votional spirit, God must be forever a stranger to 
you. Oh ! my friends, let us beware, lest the 
light which bursts upon the world to come, reveal 
him to us, not as a stranger only, but as an en- 
emy. 

41 



SERMON XXI. 



A PURE HEART AND BLAMELESS LIFE MOST FAVORABLE TO 
THE UNDERSTANDING OF THE GOSPEL. 



John, VII. 17. 

IT ANY MAN WILL DO HIS WILL, HE SHALL KNOW OF THE DOCTRINE, 
WHETHER IT BE OF GOD, OR WHETHER I SPEAK OF MYSELF. 

Amid the great variety of existing opinions on 
the subject of religion in general and of Christian- 
ity in particular, this text often becomes the re- 
fuge of the weary and distracted mind ; and it is 
also often held out as an encouragement to the 
youthful inquirer, who is beginning to seek with 
anxiety for the truth as it is in Jesus. The Chris- 
tian quotes this text against the infidel, when he is 
not willing directly to impeach his motives. The 
theological polemic quotes it against his adver- 
sary, when he is himself compelled, by stress of ar- 
gument, to retreat from his positions and shelter 
himself in the goodness of his heart, rather than 
in the strength of his cause. The fanatic quotes 
it against the man whom he cannot make to feel as 
he does, and who, he is sure, therefore, will not 
think with him. And, lastlv, the man of real can- 



JOHN, VII. 17. 323 

dor quotes it, when, weary of the war of words, 
disgusted with the spirit of sectarianism and the 
obscurities of human systems, he seeks repose, for 
himself and his friends, in this merciful declaration, 
' If any man will do his will, he shall know of the 
doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak 
of myself.' 

The words were addressed by our Saviour to those 
incredulous Jews, who had heard his public teach- 
ings in Jerusalem, at the feast of tabernacles. 
We learn from the evangelist in this chapter, that 
there was at this time much dissension among the 
Jews respecting Jesus. Some said he was a good 
man ; others said nay, and maintained that he se- 
duced the people. For, adds the evangelist, no 
man, not even the friends of Jesus, openly profes- 
sed his attachment to him, < through fear of the 
Jews.' Then Jesus went up to the temple and 
taught, that is, in the most public manner. The 
Jews, who heard him, were astonished at his 
preaching, and said, Whence hath this man any 
knowledge of the sacred writings, having never 
received the usual education ■? He has had no in- 
struction in the science of the law, to which our 
doctors are brought up ; or, as we should say, he 
has never received a professional education. The 
language of our English version, ' How knoweth 
this man letters, having never learned,' does not 
in this place give the meaning of the Jews. Their 
wonder was, that our Saviour should assume the 
office of a public religious instructer, without hav- 



324 SERMON XXL 

ing been brought up at the feet of some rabbi. 
Jesus replies to this objection ; The doctrine 
Avhich I deliver is not mine, but His who sent me. 
If any one will do the will of God, he will know 
whether this doctrine has God for its author, or 
whether I speak of myself, and merely on my own 
authority. He who speaketh of himself, or on his 
own authority merely, consults his own glory ; but 
he who consults the honor of him who commis- 
sions him, is true ; a teacher very far removed 
from any attempt at imposture. 

Before we proceed to state and illustrate the 
doctrine of our text, we have two preliminary re- 
marks to suggest. 

In the first place, the text allows us to conclude, 
that a man without the knowledge of Christianity, or 
of any other revelation, may yet be disposed to do 
the will of God. It supposes, that there may exist 
in the mind a predisposition to religious obedience, 
or at least a sincerity and ingenuousness of tem- 
per which qualifies some minds better than others 
for instruction. The disposition to which our 
Saviour makes the promise, is that general dispo- 
sition of religious obedience, which certainly is not 
entirely unknown under any dispensation ; and 
which may accompany that knowledge of God, 
which we are commonly said to derive from the 
works of creation and the plain deductions of 
reason. The proffer of the gospel, therefore, 
presupposes a knowledge of some truths among 
mankind, and a certain moral character in indivi- 



JOHN, VII. 17. 325 

duals either favorable or unfavorable to its recep- 
tion. Christianity does not profess to give us our 
primary, much less our only religious notions. 
Neither does it suppose every man to be utterly 
averse from all good, and inclined to all evil and 
that continually, till he comes within its enlighten- 
ing doctrine and sanctifying influences. It suppos- 
es some ground-work in human nature, on w T hich 
the gospel is to build, some previous moral capa- 
cities in a man as necessary to the operation of 
the gospel motives. It is intended, indeed, to re- 
generate the human heart ; but it also supposes 
the heart to be already prepared to yield to its re- 
generating influence. In short, the language of 
the text implies that we must be inclined to do 
the will of God, before we can receive the doctrine 
of Jesus Christ as the truth of God. Of course 
our disposition to do the will of God cannot de- 
pend exclusively on our faith in Christ. 

Our second remark is, that the text gives to an 
honest and serious mind the liberty of judging of 
the claims, and even of the doctrines of Christ. 
That is, our Saviour does not profess to bear down 
the judgments of men as to the truth, either of his 
pretensions or of his doctrines, by the mere force 
of his authority. He evidently supposes some 
previous knowledge of God's will, some original 
truths, either of reason or of revelation, with which 
the professed communication from God must not 
be inconsistent. The text in fact implies, that in 
every case of revelation we have some standard. 



326 SERMON XXI. 

more or less complete, by which we may judge 
whether the doctrine delivered, or the pretensions 
made by any one who lays claim to divine author- 
ity, are to be admitted. Jesus himself submitted his 
pretensions to the scrutiny of his cotemporaries, 
and of course to the scrutiny of all men of sober 
and candid minds. He authorises the exercise of 
reason in the case of revelation ; not indeed to 
determine whether there was a necessity for in- 
struction by revelation, for of this God alone can 
be a competent judge ; nor to say that the thing 
is altogether unnecessary and improbable, and 
therefore to refuse to listen to the teacher or to 
examine his pretensions. This very reason re- 
quires us to listen, while it allows us to judge of 
the proofs of the revelation and the conformity of 
its doctrines to what we before knew of God. It 
by no means allows us to reject any truths as com- 
ing from God, simply because they are new and 
unknown to us before, or because they are such as 
we did not discover or should not have expected ; 
but still, these truths, however strange, or unex- 
pected, or ungrateful, must be viewed in the best 
light we have ; and the text supposes that if they 
are from God, they will certainly commend them- 
selves to the acceptance of every mind that is dis- 
posed to do the will of God. It is possible, in- 
deed, to suppose a case, which, however, is not 
likely to happen under the government of God, in 
which an honest inquirer may at one and the same 
time find the external proof of the teacher's au- 



JOHN, VII. 17. 327 

thority irresistible, and the doctrines taught irre- 
concilable to the dictates of his best reason. In 
such a case the mind must remain in suspense, 
either suspecting that it has been deceived in its 
examination of the proofs, or that it does not thor- 
oughly understand the doctrines. And just in this 
state 4 of indecision, nothing is more consolatory 
to the honest, or more alarming to the disingenu- 
ous, than the words of our text. 

We proceed now to the doctrine of the text. 
To every man, whether he believes Christianity or 
not, it is highly important. It includes two pro- 
positions ; 

That our religious conviction of the truth of 
Christianity very much depends on the moral state 
of our minds ; 

That a correct knowledge of the doctrines 
of this religion is promoted by the practice of its 
laws. 

I. To some minds there is nothing more offen- 
sive than to hear it maintained, that their indeci- 
sion or their unbelief on the question of revelation, 
results from the nature of their habits of life or the 
prevailing state of their affections. Now, on the 
other hand, the believer in the gospel does not 
think it any reproach to his understanding when it 
is said that his love of God and goodness has bi- 
assed him to the reception of Christianity. This 
is an awkward and yet an unavoidable state of 
things, and yet it results from the very nature of 
the christian religion as a moral system. 



328 SERMON XXI. 

If Christianity offered men any temporal emolu- 
ments or advantages, if it held out any lure to the 
passions of the believer, we should be more cau- 
tious in using this language on the subject of faith ; 
because the believer could never be secure against 
a retort in kind, which it would be difficult to par- 
ry. But when we look at the doctrine of Jesus 
Christ, presenting itself in all its simplicity and 
purity, to counteract the influence of the darling 
objects of temporal ambition, and the darling 
passions of vain and selfish men ; when we regard 
its threats and promises, all relating to the inner 
man and the future world ; when we find it pre- 
senting itself to our examination unsupported ex- 
cept by its historical proofs and its own internal 
excellency, we feel that Jesus has a right to say, 
Those who heartily embrace my doctrine, such as 
it is in the New Testament, must do it from virtu- 
ous motives, and those who reject it are under the 
bias of some moral indisposition. 

When we in imagination see the meek and holy 
Son of God in the presence of his captious and 
bigoted countrymen, without form or comeliness, 
a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, un- 
recommended by a single circumstance flattering 
to the pride or passions of his hearers, and unsup- 
ported by anything but the consciousness that 
God was with him, and appealing to nothing but 
the proofs of divine power which he exhibited, and 
the purity of his life and doctrine ; when we find 
him able to promise nothing to his followers on 



JOHN, VII. 17. 229 

earth, and threatening them with the afflicting 
consequences of their rejection of him who would 
save them from their sins, when we recall this pic- 
ture of Jesus on earth, who can refuse him the 
right of saying to the Jews and to all mankind, 'Ye 
will not come to me that ye may have life. For 
this is your condemnation, that light is come into 
the world, and men loved darkness rather than 
light, because their deeds were evil.' 

Now, if he could say this with justice to men 
who had the evidence of their senses to assist their 
belief, we may be allowed to say it now, when the 
evidence of the truth of Christianity is even more 
of a moral kind, than it was in the lifetime of our 
Saviour and apostles. Do you ask how this is ? 
I answer, that among the first witnesses of the gos- 
pel, their faith must have had less of a moral char- 
acter the more it had of the evidence of the sens- 
es to produce it, and the more it was assisted by 
the personal influence of our Saviour's presence. 
I do not by this mean to say, that the moral de- 
merit of any particular case of unbelief, may not 
now be less than in the case of the unbelieving 
Jews ; but only that the moral motives for embrac- 
ing Christianity have now become almost the only 
ones that can operate, either in drawing our at- 
tention to the subject of revelation, or in affecting 
our determinations. Blessed are they that have 
not seen and yet have believed. 

The doctrine of the text applies with similar force 
to all just religious belief, from whatever source 
42 



330 SERMON XXI. 

derived. We do not admit, indeed, that any reli- 
gion, worthy of the name, can exist at present 
without Christianity; and surely there is nothing 
of value in any other religion, which is not found 
better in Christianity. Nay, what does the ex- 
ample teach us of men in christian countries w r ho 
renounce their Christianity ? Do we not find that 
when their Christianity is abjured all their religion 
goes with it ? The religious principle, if not ex- 
tinct, becomes ineffectual, and everything in mor- 
als and belief is left loose and powerless yi their 
minds. The present age is full of examples, some 
of them indeed on a broad and national scale, 
which ought to teach us the full force of the dis- 
ciples' exclamation, ' Lord, to whom shall we go ? 
thou hast the words of eternal life.' 

Still, however, the unbeliever has a right to de- 
mand of us to explain, how it is that virtue and 
vice have this operation on belief. He w 7 ill say, 
' There is no such mutual influence of belief and 
practice as you imagine ; for practice is depen- 
dent on the will, opinion is not ; character is vol- 
untary, belief is necessary ; belief, therefore, must 
always follow the nature of evidence and the force 
of demonstration. It is an act of the understand- 
ing, which moral motives cannot or ought not to 
affect.' 

To all this reasoning, which seems so fair, we 
will not yet oppose the immense multitude of facts 
within every one's observation, where we are in 
the habit of charging men every day with the ef- 



JOHN, VII. 17. 331 

feet of their hopes or fears, their disposition and 
wishes, on their opinions ; but will content our- 
selves with this general remark, that, whatevei 
may be the truths, facts, or opinions which are of a 
nature to influence the temper and practice, it is not 
unnatural to suppose, nay, it unavoidably follows, 
that the previous temper or character or practice 
has an influence on the view which we take of the 
evidence of such truths or facts. Now, that Chris- 
tianity is a truth, fact, or opinion of this kind , no one 
can pretend to deny ; and as it regards the mere 
explanation of this well known phenomenon of the 
human mind, of the reciprocal influence of belief 
and practice, it is quite as difficult to explain how 
opinions should influence character as how char- 
acter should influence opinions. 

But let us attend to this subject more minutely. 
Here is a young man, tempted to some unlawful 
indulgence. The question of the truth of re- 
ligion, that is, of the christian religion, occurs to 
his mind in these circumstances. He knows, per- 
haps, or he has heard of the doubts of others, 
whose powers of mind he has reason to respect. 
In the mean time, he is called to decide whether 
he shall, from considerations of religion, give up 
the offered pleasure. On the one hand he is pres- 
sed by a strong temptation ; he must decide or 
the opportunity of sin is gone. He decides, then ; 
what? not that religion is absolutely false — no, 
this is not necessary for the occasion — but that 
it is so doubtful as not to be a reason with him for 



332 SERMON XXI. 

giving up this indulgence, which may perhaps 
never again fall within his reach. Now it is not 
necessary to say how unfavorable must be the ef- 
fect of this single determination on his mind, 
whenever he comes to reflect afterwards in cooler 
moments on the subject of religion. But let such 
deliberations and such judgments be often repeat- 
ed, and must they not leave in the mind a settled 
persuasion against religion, and of course against 
the consideration of it ? They have the same ef- 
fect on the mind, which they would have if made 
in more favorable circumstances, whereas in truth 
they are made in the most unfavorable, that is, un- 
der the pressure of a present temptation. As this 
process, which we have described, takes place 
when the restraints of religion are most galling, 
and at the very time of determining on the act of 
sin, it is easy to see, that this balancing of reasons, 
and this occasional rejection, will often be tacit 
and not express. The conclusion, though not ex- 
pressly drawn, is yet adopted ; and as it is practi- 
cally adopted, and we act upon this hasty decision, 
it alienates the mind as surely and as effectually 
from religion, as if we had formally reasoned our- 
selves into a conviction of its uncertainty or false- 
hood. 

It should be further remembered, that it is the 
tendency of some habits, especially those of sensu- 
ality and licentiousness, to weaken the powers of 
the understanding, while they thoroughly corrupt 
the heart. The mind, which is under the domin- 



John, vii. 17. 333 

ion of lust, acquires a total inaptitude to religious 
considerations. And where this kind of depravity 
does not exist, yet is every species of immoral 
habit unfriendly to the production of religious 
faith. A man in such circumstances is always rea- 
dy to magnify small difficulties, to seize at petty 
cavils, and to lay hold of arguments, which fall in 
with the course of his vicious propensities. In 
short, the operation of moral character upon spec- 
ulative belief, is a process, which, however difficult 
it may be in particular cases to detect, is yet in 
some degree understood by every man, and is 
frequently acknowleged by those who have under- 
gone any considerable change of religious opinion. 
If now we are called upon to show, on the other 
hand, how virtue produces belief in Christianity, 
or in Jesus Christ as the messenger of God, speak- 
ing with God's authority, it might be enough, per- 
haps, to answer, that it leaves the mind free from 
the weight of prejudice, and unaffected by the 
unfavorable biasses, which we have just now been 
describing. But it has also a more direct influ- 
ence. For much of the evidence of the gospel 
is internal. It is addressed to the moral feelings 
of the human heart ; and every degree of pro- 
ficiency in virtue, makes us not only think more, 
but more highly of Christianity, whether we yet 
believe in it or not. The discourses of Christ 
and the writings of the apostles breathe such an 
unction of goodness, that they leave an impression 
on the mind of a good man, which is more effectual, 



334 SERMON XXL 

perhaps, in producing religious conviction than 
any historical evidence, while, at the same time, 
it disposes him to receive without cavil the his- 
torical testimony, and corroborates the external 
proofs. In fine, every man placed within the reach 
of information, and who will do the will of God, 
lays hold of that branch of the evidence of Chris- 
tianity best suited to his habits of thinking, and 
comes at last to believe, that the doctrine of Jesus 
Christ is the doctrine of God. It is indeed a 
process through which the understanding imper- 
ceptibly passes ; and though many believe and yet 
sin, and many disbelieve from other causes beside 
immorality and irreligion, yet the tendency of 
virtue to faith, and of vice to infidelity, must be 
admitted as the general rule ; and so common is it 
that we may be thought to have spent too much 
time in illustration of our Saviour's plain declara- 
tion. 

II. There remains another view of our subject 
peculiarly interesting to us, as Christians, who have 
taken the words of Christ and of his apostles as 
the source and standard of our religious belief. 
The declaration in the text, then, authorises us to 
believe, in the second place, that he who will do 
the will of God shall not only know all that is 
essential in Christianity, but that he who prac- 
tices this religion most faithfully will understand 
it best. 

Now this could never be truly said, if Chris- 
tianity were a system of curious and difficult 



john, vii. 17. 335 

truths ; if it were that incomprehensible thing, 
which it is sometimes made in the language of 
men. Indeed this could not be true, if all that is 
in it necessary to salvation were not either plain 
or practical. If the knowledge of Christianity- 
consisted in the knowledge of those subtle dis- 
tinctions, which have exercised the understandings 
of theological disputants, or if it depended on the 
settlement of the meaning of certain difficult texts, 
the sense of which can be known and vindicated 
only by the learned, or if it required any peculiar 
comprehension of mind to receive correctly its 
essential and distinguishing dogmas, our Saviour 
never could have said, that a mere disposition to 
do the will of God would qualify a man to under- 
stand his religion. But this our Saviour has as- 
serted. For it would be trifling or impious to 
suppose, that our Saviour meant only, < If you will 
do the will of God, you shall know that my doc- 
trine comes from God,' while at the same time he 
secretly knew that the same disposition, without 
some uncommon comprehension or acuteness of 
mind, would not enable them to understand his 
doctrine, and judge of its character and import- 
ance, so far as it concerned themselves. This 
would be in fact to say, 'You may know, that I 
speak the truth, while you shall not be able to 
understand me.' 

If, then, we attempt to analyse this process of 
mind as we did the other, and inquire how it comes 
to pass, that a disposition to do the will of God 



336 SERMON XXI. 

enables us to understand the gospel as well as to 
believe in its divine origin, we shall be compelled 
to come to this conclusion, that a good disposition 
can give us no aid in judging of the truth of doc- 
trines except so far as they are practical ; of course 
we have every reason to conclude, that everything 
essential in Christianity is a practical truth. A 
temper of obedience to God's will, however ex- 
cellent in itself, will give us no aid on many of the 
topics of theological discussion. How can the 
best disposition in the world help us, for instance, 
to conceive of the distinction between person and 
substance in the trinity ; between imputed or orig- 
inal righteousness or sin; between natural and 
moral inability ? The best disposition in the world 
gives us no light on the subject of personal identity 
and the resurrection of the same body, no clearer 
conception of the distinction between common 
and special grace, or justification by faith alone 
and not by that faith which is alone, as polemics 
talk. It leaves us as much in the dark as ever on 
many other topics yet disputed among Christians, 
and it may very well be doubted, whether the most 
holy life, and the most frequent supplications for 
divine illumination would give the bewildered 
Christian much help in understanding these and 
many more distinctions, which might be enumer- 
ated. 

But would you know how the love and practice 
of virtue lead to the right understanding of the 
gospel, take up the New Testament and open your 



JOHN, VII. 17. 337 

mind to the devout, holy, and benevolent spirit, 
which breathes in the discourses of our Lord and 
his apostles. The truths, which effectually and 
permanently influence practice, are few, but they 
are often repeated. Like everything great they are 
as simple and plain as they are important. The 
instructions and precepts of our Lord appear to 
those who are desirous of instruction, altogether 
excellent and worthy to be observed. The doc- 
trines which are according to godliness, are best 
understood by a godly man. 

For instance ; there are some of the precepts 
of our Lord, which, in the eyes of the world, 
appear doubtful and unreasonable. The good 
man, who would know whether they are real- 
ly excellent and worthy of God, makes the ex- 
periment of them in his own conduct. Thus he 
finds that it is true wisdom to forgive rather than 
to resent, and that it is much more easy to be 
humble than to be vain ; and thus he understands 
the christian doctrine of forgiveness and humility. 
He finds by experience the folly of unreasonable 
anxiety, the vanity of earthly attachments and pur- 
suits, and how much better it is to trust in the 
Lord, than to lean to our own understandings, and 
thus comprehends the doctrines of providence and 
of faith. He is brought down by affliction, and 
understands the doctrine of the life to come, and 
every day which revives his self-examination and 
repentance, makes him sensible of the worth of 
the doctrine of pardon brought by Jesus Christ* 
43 



338 SERMON XXI. 

As he reads the scriptures with a pure and honest 
intention, not only do the grace and glory of our 
Saviour's character open more and more upon his 
mind, but he also feels the force and discerns the 
divine origin of our Saviour's teaching. The rays 
of christian truth, like the light of heaven, fall 
most abundantly on the eye that is directed up- 
wards. As his mind is free from that exclusive at- 
tachment to particular systems, by which many 
ingenuous intellects are cramped or reduced, and 
as he regards religious truth only in its relation to 
practice, it is enough for him to find that a parti- 
cular explication of a theological point is not of 
any moral value, to believe that it may safely be 
disregarded as no part of the revelation of God. 

There is, then, this further account to be given 
of the superior knowledge of a good man in all 
the essential truths of Christianity, that he reads 
the scriptures with impartiality, honestly desirous 
of ascertaining what the Lord God would have 
him to do. It is previously to be expected, that 
he who is most desirous of obeying and of imitat- 
ing God, will be most likely to ascertain those 
truths which really bear the true stamp of divinity. 
If we once admit, then, that Christianity is a reli- 
gion for practice, and that a good man is not infal- 
lible in the interpretation of every part of scripture, 
it follows, that, to answer the promise in the text, 
it must be, that those mistakes into which it is 
possible for a good man to fall, relate to subjects 
which do not belong to the essence of Christianity. 



john, vii. 17. 339 

Further, if we believe in the good providence 
of God, extending to all mind as well as to matter, 
or in the real though imperceptible aid of his spir- 
it, we cannot doubt, that he who ingenuously 
seeks and diligently obeys the truth as far as he 
discov€rs it, will be ultimately led into every ne- 
cessary article of faith. < The meek thou wilt 
guide in judgment ; the meek thou wilt teach thy 
way.' He who is willing to learn, is commonly 
taught ; and he who is disposed to obey God, may 
depend upon it, that he does not break any of 
God's commandments by disbelieving a doctrine 
which he cannot find in the instructions of Christ 
and his apostles. On the other hand, let it not be 
forgotten, that obscurity and incapacity of mind 
are infallibly promoted by the prevalence of un- 
worthy passions and the force of sinful habits. 
As they did not like to retain God in their know- 
ledge, says the apostle, God gave them up to an 
undiscerning and injudicious mind ; and when 
speaking of the corruptions which should find their 
way into the christian church, the same apostle 
says, the man of sin shall come with all deceivable- 
ness of unrighteousness, because they received 
not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. 

Once more ; if we believe the words of our Sav- 
iour in the text, it is fair to conclude, that every 
man who will do the will of God is much more 
sure of the truth by his diligent study of the scrip- 
tures in general, or even of the words of Christ, 
than he can be made by any of the declarations of a 



340 SERMON XXI. 

church professing itself infallible, or by any of the 
compends of doctrines framed by art and man's 
device. Of course, then, it should never give a pi- 
ous and humble mind a moment's uneasiness that it 
cannot bring its faith to any one of the popular stan- 
dards ; for if the truths which we firmly believe, 
are fewer than are required by the impositions of 
men, yet if our creed is the result of a fair and ra- 
tional study of the scriptures, unbiassed, as we can 
perceive, by any improper considerations — the man 
who is conscious, I say, of this state of mind, need 
be under no alarm for the salvation of his soul as 
far as belief can affect his salvation. His great 
anxiety should be to act up to the light he has re- 
ceived, and faithfully to fulfil the extent of his 
duties ; for such, God be thanked ! is the inti- 
mate connexion of all doctrines and duties, that 
the man who religiously fulfils one branch of know- 
ledge or practice, will have gone very far to the 
observance of the whole. 

I will conclude the subject with a simple reca- 
pitulation of those conclusions which our text has 
suggested to us. 

We have concluded, then, that a man may be 
seriously disposed to do the will of God, before he 
has had knowledge of the christian revelation, and 
of course, there is something in human nature on 
which Christianity may be built. We have seen 
also, that the truth of his claims and the nature of 
his doctrines are submitted by our Saviour himself 
to the judgment of unperverted reason. 



JOHN, VII. 17. 341 

We have seen how virtue produces belief, and 
vice unbelief in the authority of Christ or in the 
christian revelation, and we know that he who best 
practises Christianity will best understand it ; and 
that all the truth which is essential in Christianity is 
that which a mind disposed to do the will of God 
cannot fail to receive by the study of the scriptures. 
God giveth to a man that is good in his sight, wis- 
dom, and knowledge ; and may God grant that the 
eyes of our understanding being enlightened, we 
may understand what is the excellency of the 
knowledge of the glory of God in Christ Jesus 
our Lord. 



SERMON XXII 



THE DISAPPOINTMENTS AND UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE. 
ECCLESIASTES, I. 14. 

I HAVE SEEN ALL THE WORKS THAT ARE DONE UNDER THE SUN ; 
AND BEHOLD ALL IS VANITY AND VEXATION OF SPIRIT. 

There are some maxims of practical morality, 
which are so common and so familiar to every 
man's experience, that it seems idle to tell what 
every one knows, and superfluous to prove what 
it is impossible to doubt. But the effect of moral 
maxims is produced, rather by placing them in 
new and striking aspects. Among those truths, 
which all men believe, but which few practically 
feel, may be mentioned the utter uncertainty of 
human life and all its expectations and enjoy- 
ments. The experiments which prove this fact, 
have been making ever since the world was made ; 
and not an individual has entered on the stage of 
life and passed through the common career of 
worldly probation, who has not been sooner or lat- 
er willing to confess with Solomon, * Vanity of 
vanities, all is vanity.' 



THE DISAPPOINTMENTS OF LIFE. 343 

There is a spirit of dissatisfaction pervading this 
whole book of Ecclesiastes, from which our text 
is taken, which renders the perusal of it painfu! 
and melancholy. The royal author, in the course 
of his luxurious life, had drained every source of 
pleasure, till satiety had succeeded enjoyment. He 
had decked himself in every flower that grew by 
the walks of life, and worn them till their colors 
had faded, and their perfume had been exhaled. 
He had intoxicated himself with every variety of 
sensual gratification, till awaking at last from his 
dream of delight, he found himself sick at heart, 
and his spirits sunk within him to a stagnant level 
ofdiscontent. 

Solomon, indeed, was now suffering the misery 
of disappointment. He had been disappointed, 
not of obtaining the means of enjoyment in any 
particular instance, but he was blasted with ex- 
cess of pleasure. He had collected around him 
all the means and appendages of enjoyment, but 
the substance had escaped him. The ingenuity 
and the patience of his servants had been ex- 
hausted in contrivances of new pleasures for the 
monarch. He had tried mirth, and it was mad ; 
wine and it was folly. ' I made me, 5 says he, 
4 great works ; I builded me houses ; I planted me 
vineyards ; I made me gardens and orchards ; I 
planted trees in them of all kinds of fruit ; I made 
me pools of water ; I got me servants and maidens, 
and had servants born in my house ; also I had 
great possessions of great and small cattle, above 



344 SERMON XXII. 

all that were in Jerusalem before me ; I gathered 
me also silver and gold, the peculiar treasure of 
kings and of the provinces ; I got me men and 
women singers, and the delights of the sons of men, 
as musical instruments, and that of all sorts. Then 
I looked on all the works that my hands had 
wrought, and on all the labor that I had labored to 
do, and behold all was vanity and vexation of 
spirit, and there was no profit under the sun.' 

And this man, who had but to wish, and the 
means of enjoyment were collected around him, 
who but stretched out his hand, and pleasures 
dropped into it ; this great monarch found, after 
all, that in point of actual happiness, the differ- 
ence was but trifling between him who obtained 
all, and him who obtained nothing of what he de- 
sired on earth. 

It may not be unprofitable to employ a short 
portion of our time in contemplating the disap- 
pointments and uncertainties of our life on earth, 
that we may learn something more of the great 
art of contentment, and limit our expectations on 
this side the grave. 

We will consider, first, the disappointment of 
early hopes and expectations, and secondly, the 
uncertainty of life and its actual enjoyments. 

I. The disappointment of early expectations. 

When the curtain of life is first drawn up, a 
thousand incompatible objects of pleasure strike 
the eye of the inexperienced spectator, and he 
forms at once a thousand inconsistent wishes and 



THE DISAPPOINTMENTS OF LIFE. 345 

impatient desires. He takes all the show of hap- 
piness, also, for reality, and as objects of pleasure 
first present themselves to him, he discovers no- 
thing but their beautiful colors, and till he has 
grasped them he does not suspect that they have 
a sting. 

There are some men who seem born into a 
world made on purpose to receive them. As they 
grow up into life, all about them is softness and 
security. If they fall, they fall upon down; when 
they stand, they lean upon the arms of affection; 
they seem to have nothing to do but to gather the 
rosebuds before they wither, for all the delights of 
life are provided to their hands. Send one of these 
favorites of fortune out into the world to expati- 
ate in the fulness of pleasure. Let him not know 
miscarriages. Let tomorrow be with him as this 
day and even more abundant. Yet all the expec- 
tations of this favorite child of luxury are utterly 
defeated. And how is this? He finds, that he 
has lived too fast. In a few years he has exhaust- 
ed the pleasures which might have been economi- 
cally diffused through three score years and ten; 
and he retires, sick of that entertainment of life, 
which others are just beginning to taste, and cries 
out, ' All is vanity and vexation of spirit.' 

If such is the fate of those who seem born to 
set trouble at defiance, what shall we say of the 
vast number who struggle to reach those gifts of 
Providence, from which, by their situation in life, 
they are placed at a distance ? We find some men 
44 



346 SERMON XXII. 

laboring for comfortable establishments in life, 
and we see not why their chance of success is not 
originally as good as that of other competitors for 
this world's goods. But unforeseen accidents 
cross their plans. Sometimes their imprudence, 
sometimes their neglect, sometimes their very hon- 
esty defeats them ; and from some strange defect, 
they toil without profit, and every new attempt to 
rise only serves to sink them lower. 

The competitors for honor are yet more exposed 
to disappointment ; and even the fond hope of 
useful distinction and mental influence, is extreme- 
ly delusive and uncertain. Opportunities of im- 
provement which we had anticipated, never pre- 
sent themselves ; and the long expected leisure 
for study retreats before us, like the horizon. 
Sometimes our early labors are lost because mis- 
directed. Sometimes our intellectual treasures, 
by a total revolution in public sentiment, are 
rendered useless. Perhaps the faculties of the 
mind are prematurely worn out by excessive ex- 
ertion, the mind itself crushed by its own acquisi- 
tions, and left without memory and without judg- 
ment, a prey to all the miseries of a wandering 
imagination. Perhaps — but why should I multiply 
conjectures to swell the list of disappointments? 
Why should I search for the chances of failure, 
when, even if you should succeed in all your 
worldly projects and in every single object of your 
wishes, you will find at last, that happiness is not 
here ? 



THE DISAPPOINTMENTS OF LIFE. 347 

But it is not the expectations of the young 
only that are so fallacious. We find the infirmities 
of old age assailing men, while they are projecting 
plans for many distant years. After having given 
up the bustle of active life, and while expecting 
to enjoy the quiet pleasures of an old age spent in 
the society of children and friends, the senses 
begin to fail us, we can hardly distinguish the 
countenances that once gave us pleasure, our dull 
hearing refuses to distinguish the voices that we 
love, and we grow tiresome to those who are wil- 
ling to amuse us. Sometimes the very children 
on whom we relied for the comfort of our declin- 
ing years, prove our severest afflictions. They 
are unfortunate, and the aged parent is involved 
in their disasters ; they are vicious, and he is left 
to weep over them. Or, if such great evils as 
these are by God's good providence averted, yet 
the recollection of the daily diminishing sum of our 
pleasures, and the perpetually intruding thought 
of living beyond the wishes of those around us, 
of filling places which others are waiting to oc- 
cupy, are sufficient to teach us, that the season of 
hope ought to be over with us, and that nothing 
remains but to suffer, since we can no longer act, 
for * by faith and patience we may yet hope to 
inherit the promises.' 

In contemplating these disappointments, we can 
hardly refrain from complaint and despondency. 
Two considerations have suggested themselves to 
my mind which serve to account for this state of 
things, and to condemn our repinings. 



348 SERMON XXII. 

The first is, that the inconsistency of our pur- 
suits and expectations is the chief cause of our 
disappointment. It is of the utmost consequence 
that we should attain to just notions of the human 
mind, and not vex ourselves with fruitless wishes, 
and give way to groundless and unreasonable dis- 
content upon the non-attainment of incompatible 
pleasures. The child of fortune, if he chooses 
to exhaust all his sources of pleasure at once, has 
no reason to complain that he does not afterwards 
enjoy the benefit of novelty or variety. He must 
not suppose, that he can partake, at the same time, 
the ease of the man who has everything provided 
for him without labor, and the sweet satisfaction 
that follows the success of toil and the conquest 
of difficulties. And if he chooses to waste in a 
few years the pleasures which might be economi- 
cally distributed through a long life, he must not 
complain that he at length suffers the misery of 
having nothing to enjoy. 

But you complain that you are disappointed in 
the attainment of those very things which belong 
to your course of life. But what is the reason ? 
You have attempted to unite incompatible advan- 
tages. You have wished to attain extent and 
depth of acquirements, professional distinction 
and general literature, taste amid the drudgery of 
learned labor, public consequence and the private 
acquisition of rare and curious knowledge. You 
have no right to complain that you cannot join to- 
gether inconsistent acquisitions. 



THE UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE. 349 

The man of stern virtue suffers. He is perse- 
cuted, he is banished, he is forgotten ; or he is 
unknown, he is reduced to want, or he is always 
struggling with poverty. All this he might have 
saved with the sacrifice of his honor, his integrity, 
his faith, or his religion. But why should he mur- 
mur, while he retains that, which he acknowledges 
to be better than all other advantages? 

The old man must not complain of disappoint- 
ment, because he cannot enjoy in age, the plea- 
sures of youth. It is impossible to have at the 
same time the satisfaction of looking back upon a 
life that is past, and the anticipation of many years 
to come. But your wealth, you say, does not re- 
ward you, now, when you most expected to enjoy 
it. Be content with the satisfaction you had in 
acquiring it. Your children, on whom you have 
bestowed so much affection and indulgence, 
pierce your heart through with many sorrows. 
But if you would not submit to the pain of correc- 
ting them, to the labor of giving them principles of 
virtue and religion ; and if, to spare them and your- 
self from trouble, you left them to themselves, be 
not surprised that you must now suffer from this 
neglect. But you see nothing in the world to come 
which gives you consolation. Ah ! this is the nat- 
ural consequence of having put off the thoughts of 
it till these last moments. Be not surprised that 
you cannot reconcile these incompatibilities. You 
have had what you sought supremely on earth ; 
do not think it strange that you have no treasures 
in heaven. 



350 SERMON XXII. 

Beside the want of moderation and consistency 
in our expectations, another cause of the disap- 
pointment of early hopes, is to be ascribed to the 
folly of our choice, and the unsatisfactory nature 
of the objects of human pursuit in themselves. If 
we will not submit to be instructed by the experi- 
ence of ages, we must make the experiment for 
ourselves, and have no right to complain of disap- 
pointment. It is unquestionably certain, that no 
real and permanent satisfaction is to be found, ex- 
cept in the favor of God, and the hope of another 
life, founded in virtue, integrity, and piety. But 
you have chosen wealth, rather than virtue. If, 
after enjoying it, you are satisfied of its incompe- 
tency to your happiness, though you may have suf- 
fered thereby a great disappointment, it is an in- 
valuable lesson, and the discovery is an ample re- 
compense. You have tried sensual pleasures. 
They have wounded you deeply ; but you have no 
right to complain, no, not even if God should not 
afford you time to profit from your dear-bought ex- 
perience. You have enjoyed all the honors, which 
men could bestow upon you, and now you are dis- 
gusted, and sick of your elevation. Is this the 
fault of your Creator ? You have lived only for 
yourself, in a selfish, narrow sphere. Are you to 
complain that you have no friends, and that you 
are destitute of that peace and harmony of mind 
which belong to the active, the pious, and the 
generous ? The world passeth away, and the 
lusts thereof. You would not listen to the word 



THE DISAPPOINTMENTS OF LIFE. Q5 1 

of God, and the lessons of experience ; if you 
have found out your mistake, make haste to re- 
trieve it, and if it be not too late, try the plea- 
sures of religion and active virtue, and you will 
not be disappointed. 

II. We proposed, in the second place, to consid- 
er those real goods which we actually possess, and 
the uncertainty of life itself. 

There are few men who do not possess some 
real advantage peculiar to themselves, in which 
they would be losers in changing conditions with 
others. Some are in possession of firm health, 
some of a cheerful disposition. Some are happy 
in the abundance of their friends, others in being 
free from enemies. Every man has some peculi- 
arity of good fortune, as we call it, of which he is 
willing to be proud, and others to be envious. It 
seems superfluous to illustrate the assertion, that 
the best of these possessions are precarious, and 
I have nothing to do but to appeal to the common 
experience of all. 

There have been those whom you have loved, in 
the full enjoyment of health, that real blessing ; 
whose breasts were full of milk, and whose bones 
were moistened with marrow ; whose eye was 
beaming with lustre, and whose muscles were full 
of strength. You have left them a few short 
years. On your return, you have hardly known 
their emaciated features, you could not recognise 
their tottering steps and feeble voices. ' When 
God with rebukes doth chasten man, he maketh 
his beauty to consume away like a moth.' 



352 SERMON XXII. 

You have seen those to whom misfortune might 
look up as to objects whom she could not reach, 
and even envy had acquiesced in their greatness 
and security. In a moment you have seen them 
brought down to the common crowd of the de- 
pendent and the miserable. You have seen men 
in the full enjoyment of reputation, carried along 
with the gale of popular favor in the sight of ad- 
miring spectators. In an instant it dies away ; 
their full blown honors sink, and they are heard of 
no more. The distinction founded on genius and 
learning seems at first to promise greater security. 
The changes and shocks of matter, cannot, you 
think, reach the mind. Oh ! would it were so. 
Yet we have all seen the memory lose its power, 
and the senses that minister to it, decay, and the 
fancy quenched in the sorrows of age. A sudden 
attack of disease, in the very strength and vigor of 
our faculties, deranges all the fine structure of the 
mind, and fatuity occupies the seat where genius 
was enthroned. 

You have seen the instability of friendship and 
the loss of the dearest social pleasures. It is the 
condition on which we are allowed to make friends, 
that we should be willing to part with them. 
Sometimes we lose their support before they leave 
us. The arm on which we have long leaned, sud- 
denly withers, and we are obliged to become sup- 
porters in our turn. Sometimes the love of many 
years is lost by a misunderstanding, which our in- 
genuity finds it impossible to explain, or our meek- 



THE UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE. S53 

ness to reconcile. And who of you has not found, 
that, when you have had the happiness to travel 
on towards the close of life with the friend of your 
youth, or the children of your hopes, the grave 
parts you at last — and you have felt that affliction 
the hardest to support, which you ought to have 
been all your life preparing to bear? After all 
this, need I prove to you the uncertainty of life ? 
I ask you to think only how many you have follow- 
ed to the grave. Consider how large a portion of 
that intelligence, which is daily poured in upon us 
to gratify the natural curiosity of the mind, con- 
sists of the narrations of death ; and the death, too, 
not of those who have reached the common term 
of human life, not of those who have died gently 
and peaceably in their beds, not of those who have 
sunk to the grave with unperceived decay, but 
deaths, sudden, violent, unexpected, every one of 
which invites us to look at ourselves and ask, Why 
was that man taken while I am left ? ' O God, 
have mercy on the generations of men, for they are 
passing away.' 

But is there then nothing permanent on earth ? 
My friends, I know of nothing in the universe per- 
manent, but God. God is from everlasting to 
everlasting, and no man is secure but he who loves 
God, and is loved by him. Can you for a moment 
think, that this precariousness is too great, when 
you see how confidently and immoderately attach- 
ed so many yet are to these transitory possessions, 
and to a delusion, yet existing and increasing, 

45 



354 SERMON XXII. 

which all these admonitions cannot cure ? Can 
you think this uncertainty too great, when you see 
how proud men are of their short-lived acquisi* 
tions, how vain of their precarious accomplish- 
ments, how envious of another's flourishing wealth, 
how discontented with their lot, how unprepared 
for changes and reverses, how much afraid to die ? 
Is it for us to complain of the condition of our 
existence, when it has yet taught us so little con- 
fidence in God, the only rock of trust ; when we 
have yet to learn that there is but one possession 
which is eternal, and that is virtue ; one source of 
happiness which disappointment and death cannot 
reach, and that is the favor of God ? 

Do you say, that the picture which we have 
given of human life, so full of disappointment and 
uncertainty, is too discouraging ? True, my friends, 
it may be the dark side, but it is not therefore the 
less true, and it may be of great use occasionally 
to contemplate it. 

Finally ; if it be asked, why is all this uncertainty 
permitted under the government of a benevolent 
and unchangeable Being, the only answer is, that 
the present state can only be considered as a state 
of probation. The most gay and thoughtless 
creature, when he looks out upon the state of man- 
kind, cannot avoid the conclusion, that the world 
is not upon the whole a place of happiness. There 
is too much misery everywhere in view, and more 
which is out of the sight of him who will not look 
for it, to allow us the belief that God intended man 



THE UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE. ^55 

for happiness here, or that he has placed us in a 
state of reward. Nay, every man's own heart an- 
swers the question for himself, and at the same 
time suggests the suspicion, that the answer is not 
very different throughout the world. And besides 
this answer of every man's own experience, when 
he finds, from the observation of past ages, how 
much of pain, sorrow, disease, and disappoint- 
ment, has always attended mankind and seems in- 
separable from their nature, the conclusion is as 
strong, that this world was not intended to be, as 
that it is not, a place of absolute happiness ; for 
if this was the intention, it has been universally 
defeated. 

On the other hand, it is not a place of misery. 
The evil that exists, does not appear to be the ob- 
ject of contrivance. On the contrary, everything 
we see, tends to counteract and correct the misery 
which actually exists. If this were really the 
place of punishment for a fallen race, there is an 
extraordinary want of contrivance in the tenden- 
cies to pain, and in the distribution of suffering. 
If God were really punishing us here, would he 
have given us so many hopes, anticipations, and 
actual delights, as well as alleviations ? If he had 
intended to make us miserable, could he have 
made this life a blessing in the opinion of so many — 
which opinion is happiness — a blessing which it is 
so very hard to relinquish ? Nor could he have 
endowed creatures whom he was punishing, with 
that wonderful part of their constitution, the pow- 



35G SERMON XXII. 

er of habit, which infallibly diminishes evils by 
their continuance. 

It is, if possible, still more clear, that this world 
is not a state of retribution. In the language of 
Solomon, ' all things come alike to all ; there is 
one event to the righteous, and to the wicked;' 
and in the distribution of good and evil, there is 
no proportion exactly observed between ill desert 
and punishment, good desert and reward. So 
different is it from a state of equitable retribution, 
that one of the principal sources of the strong 
desire, the fond hope, the longing after another 
state, arises from the persuasion that some kind 
of retribution is just commencing in some cases, 
but left very imperfect in all, so that some other 
state must be admitted for the accomplishment of 
God's equitable intentions, otherwise all that we. 
have discovered is not merely imperfect, but su- 
perfluous, unsatisfactory, and purely embarrassing. 

There remains, therefore, but one answer to our 
question, which is, that ours is a state of probation. 
By this we mean that it is a state of trial and disci- 
pline, preparatory to something further ; a state 
in which moral agents are to be formed to active 
and passive virtue, and in which moral qualities 
arc to be produced, exercised, and matured, with 
a view to some future condition. This account 
of human life, is the only one which can be re- 
conciled with the appearances of the world ; the 
only one which either answers or silences the cap- 
tious and curious inquiries, which are perpetually 



THE UNCERTAINTIES OF LIFE. 357 

recurring to the mind of man, with relation to the 
government and goodness of God. For when it 
is once understood, that the present is only a great 
theatre of preparation or of trial, it is folly to ask 
Why was there not less uncertainty and disappoint- 
ment, because it is just as easy and rational to 
ask, Why was there not more ? If you assert that 
less would have been sufficient to answer every 
purpose of probation and moral discipline, I may 
ask, How much less? And why may not beings 
placed in a condition less probationary than ours, 
inquire with equal reason, Why were we not creat- 
ed more provident, more secure, more perfect, and 
more exalted ? 

My christian friends, after this view of human 
life, can you think this your abiding place ? Have 
you found here enough to satisfy the desires of 
souls immortal like your own ? No, I cannot con- 
sent to place you with the beasts that perish. I 
cannot endure that you should think the miseries 
and disappointments, the doubts and vicissitudes, 
or even the enjoyments of this life, are all that 
belongs to the existence, of which God has put 
you in possession. Go to the gospel of his Son. 
Man there appears a more glorious creature, the 
child of an everlasting Father in Heaven, who 
gave his Son to die that he might live forever. 
Make that your guide through these disappoint- 
ments and uncertainties, and all is clear and full 
of encouragement. Use this world without abus- 
ing it. Weep as though you wept not. Rejoice 



358 SERMON XXII. 

as though you rejoiced not, and though the fashion 
of it passeth away, you may have a building of 
God ; a house not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens. 



THE END. 



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